Rise from the Flames
by BornWithPants33
Summary: Elrond's scout vows to protect Frodo on his quest. The journey forces her to reveal her past to the fellowship and to face her fears. She must try to destroy the Ring all while creating her own path and destiny. Tenth walker.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, nor any of the affiliated characters. I only own Cerin (my OC). Any references to the books or movie are acknowledged. Any infringement on my part is purely accidental and unintended.

**AN**: This story will be a blending of the movies and aspects of the books. I don't want this to be a word-for-word retelling of the movie or the book with the only difference being the insertion of another character. Some parts I just went with the flow. I wasn't strict on following the canon, so sorry to the purists out there.

P.S. I have always pronounced Cerin's name as S-air-in, which I know goes completely against proper elvish pronunciation. In my defense, I didn't learn how you are supposed to say the C until halfway through writing the story. My best guess for how it should sound when said properly is like the name Karen.

Pairing: Aragorn/OC

Rating: T, may become M later

**Warning**: TENTH WALKER. Don't like, don't read. Don't come crying to me when you don't like what I've done with my artistic license.

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Chapter 1:

I Prefer Scout, Actually

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"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old, you've been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle Earth stands on the brink of destruction. _None_ can escape it! You will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to this _one_ fate, this _one_ doom," spoke Lord Elrond, ruler of the Last Homely House and the presiding figure for the Council. He turned to the being seated farthest to his left, and after a slight pause, began again.

"Bring forth the ring, Frodo," his features slightly contorted, as if his words caused a deep, unsettling pain.

His speech rang out ominously for all those gathered in the small courtyard setting to hear. Those last five words, small words to be sure, held in them such weight, such importance, and such impossibility. They forced an incredibly heavy burden to settle in each of their hearts. It was the burden of knowing that they would confront the forthcoming events with all the danger they promised and the almost insurmountable odds for failure. Lord Elrond's words did not inspire hope, but rather they slowly smothered any remaining faith of the sun continuing to shine on the Second Age's time of peace. They now stood on the cusp of a new Age. For these men, from near and far, to have gathered as they have was proof of looming change. The future of all the races of Middle Earth lay in the success of these men's efforts.

It was such a small thing that ring. It lay quite unassumingly on the pedestal, but all knew of the unfathomable power forged deep within the metal itself. There was such darkness in its past, in its very meaning and purpose. It called to those gathered, promising their deepest dreams. Most knew those promises to be false; for once ownership was claimed they would be corrupted. How such a small thing could cause the unending pain Middle Earth had known for so long, was just as much a mystery, as unknown, as the heavens above.

"It is a gift, a gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this ring?" a man two-thirds around the circular arrangement argued. He was known to most as Boromir, the son of the Steward of Gondor, a captain in the Gondorian army. Boromir was seen as a product of his family's power and stature, and it reflected in his attitude. Before he could go much further, he was interrupted.

"If you think that shiny piece of doom is a gift, then please never give it to me," came a worn voice from behind the men, who all turned to look at the late comer. Some gazed in curiosity and others looked in confusion for they had not heard anyone approach the area.

A tall figure, shrouded in a worn forest green cloak, stood almost within the circle in which all were seated. He headed at a leisurely pace towards the ruler with a nonchalant manner, appearing unaffected by the piercing stares of the entire Council. Lord Elrond seemed torn between annoyance and relief upon viewing the person. Then, the figure lazily gazed around at the circle before turning fully to the elf before him.

"I apologize for my lateness, my Lord, I had a pressing new development," the person spoke lowly to Elrond.

"Yes, but it is hard to sympathize with your news when you consider missing breakfast a 'pressing matter', Angulóce," Elrond sarcastically replied.

"Ah, but if you recall, Elrond, it was you who stressed to me sometime ago the importance of breaking the fast, for it gives you strength to face the coming day," the figure admonishingly replied to the elf, acting as a mother scolding a child. Elrond sighed and closed his eyes briefly, looking as if he were trying to remain calm.

The others were looking on in amazement, for they had never seen Lord Elrond act in such a manner except when his sons, the twins Elladan and Elohir, had managed to vex him with their mischievousness. He was known for his calm manner, but for him to react in such a way meant he was obviously familiar with this person.

"Yes, I do remember such a conversation between us. I have not been allowed to forget it since you so graciously remind me of it whenever there is a threat of you missing the morn meal. Now, since we are likely to go in circles with this line of talk, I suggest we move on to what delayed your arrival. Am I correct in my belief that it involves your mission?" Elrond questioned the figure, seemingly forgetting the Council members.

At the mention of a mission, all humor vanished from the figure's manner, and most likely expression as well, but the cloak's hood inhibited the men's view. He straightened up to his full height before beginning his explanation.

"It did indeed involve my mission. But, it is more pressing to inform you of that which I discovered. It is as we feared, Elrond. Saruman the Deceiver has proven true to his name. He has begun a horrid transformation of Isengard. His minions have overrun the surrounding wilderness. It is a dark fortress for dark means," he stated quite seriously in his clear, but weary voice. Elrond's face grew graver as each word met his ears.

"Did you observe the purpose behind this transformation of the lands?"

"He has created a failed race of man. They are taller, stronger, and faster, but brutes nonetheless. He breeds them like animals in the fortress. Their skin is the color of the shadow they fight for, the only contrast is the painted white hand they wear for their master. I believe he designs to build an army."

It was at this point that Gandalf stood and addressed the newcomer.

"I have known of Saruman's traitorous ways, stranger. He held me captive in the tower of Isengard while the ring traveled to Imladris. His efforts to sway me failed," Gandalf said gruffly, "I do have to wonder, though, how it was you came by this information. Only spies know of Isengard's new allegiance for I have yet to inform the Council of this betrayal." His words caused many present to tense in their chairs. The implications that a spy of Sauron could be in their midst so near their quarry were not to be taken lightly.

"Why, Mithrandir, I was there. Frankly, I rather dislike the term 'spy'. I prefer 'scout', if you would," the person retorted wittily and remained at ease under Gandalf's scrutiny.

Gandalf sputtered indignantly and everyone tensed more. They gripped their available weapons and started to rise to defend against this stranger. They had just begun to move forward when Elrond raised a hand. They halted at his command, some more grudgingly than others, but all kept their weapons at the ready. Seeing them halt, Elrond turned to the newcomer with a deep frown.

"Why must you bait them so, Angulcóe? These are fragile times, as I'm sure you're aware. I believe it is high time to introduce you to the Council," he chided.

"You know I can't help myself sometimes, Elrond. Would you deny me the rare pleasure of amusement in these so-called 'fragile' times? But, no, I agree that I should introduce myself to these fine men. I have been rude not to do so before now," the person admitted. He turned to the men still standing at the ready and gracefully removed the hood of his cloak. "I am called Cerin, and Angulcóe, to some. I am a scout and wanderer under Lord Elrond's occasional employ."

Everyone was shocked as the hood fell away to reveal a stunning young woman. Long, auburn hair fell in tangled waves to her mid-back. It was held away from her face by two small braids, the usual fashion for elven warriors. It was an odd choice to be sure because the woman was clearly of the race of Man. She had a round face with slightly puckered lips. The windswept, rosy hew to her cheeks made for a youthful, innocent appearance. When they caught her gaze, they saw a striking pair of pale blue eyes. A sharp intelligence and lingering amusement were seen in those eyes as she stared out at the Council, waiting for some kind of reaction.

No one stepped forward to reciprocate the introduction. It seemed they were still taking in her unorthodox appearance. She was clad in a brown tunic and slightly tight green riding breeches. Worn, muddy leather boots covered her feet. Her attire was obviously meant for a man, and it had definitely seen better days. They were all surprised to see the sword and dagger strapped to her hip by a piecemeal leather belt and the barest hint of fletching for arrows peeking from the edge of her cloak.

Elrond had just started to open his mouth to break the long silence when the smallest member of the Council stepped forward.

"My Lady, I am Frodo Baggins," he said pleasantly.

A soft look crossed her face as she turned to regard the hobbit. "I know well who you are, Master Baggins," she said with reverence before continuing in a more grave tone and a haunted look in her eyes, "I also know of the great courage you must have to bare such a burden and to journey from home as you have. It is not an easy task by any means." Frodo nodded to her in response, for he didn't know what to say back to her greeting, before retreating to his seat.

Once the hobbit was seated, Elrond cleared his throat, catching the attention of the whole Council. "I believe we have strayed too far from our original course of discussion with the arrival of Lady Cerin. Perhaps we should hold introductions until a later time, when we are not determining the fate of Middle Earth?" he queried with a quirked eyebrow.

At Elrond's words, their minds returned to the somber train of thought and their faces adopted their previous grave expressions. Everyone retook their seats, Cerin taking one near the end, opposite Frodo. Elrond cleared his throat again before he turned to Cerin.

"Are you quite sure of what you saw?" he asked, as though fearing the answer.

She nodded with a grave understanding. "If you do not believe my report, the proof is in the uprooted forests and decimated land the Uruks have ravaged. The proof is in the broken families now homeless and without fathers and sons."

"Did you observe any of this for yourself while in Isengard, Gandalf?" Elrond asked.

"I did. She is correct in her tale of this new beast, and also Saruman's new allegiance. He now walks a crooked path, that man."

Elrond was silent for a moment, absorbing her news, before turning to the Council.

"I did not expect events to take such a turn. We have lost one of our small number of allies to Sauron. We were few, now we are fewer. Regardless, our mission remains the same. We must decide the fate of the One Ring."

"To send the ring away would only postpone the day of evil," spoke an Elf-Lord, Glorfindel.

"Glorfindel is right," Gandalf added, "Any power to defy our Enemy that remains lies with us, here in Imladris, or with Círdan at the Havens, or in Lorien. But have they the strength, have we here the strength to withstand the Enemy, the coming of Sauron at the last, when all else is overthrown?"

"I have not the strength," said Elrond, "Neither have they."

"Then if the Ring cannot be kept from him by strength," Glorfindel reasoned, "only two things remain for us to attempt: to send it over the sea, or to destroy it."

"Those who dwell beyond the sea would not receive it: for good or ill, it belongs to Middle-earth; it is for us who still dwell here to deal with it," Elrond said with finality.

"We must destroy the ring, for no man can wield it," Gandalf said gravely.

"Then let us destroy it!" shouted a stout dwarf, Gimli son of Gloin, as he raised his axe and charged the Ring where it lay on the center pedestal. He swung with a powerful downward thrust and struck the Ring. A blinding light engulfed the Council. When the light dimmed, everyone observed the dwarf lying prostrate on the ground, staring at naught but a splintered handle of his former axe with a bewildered expression.

A rugged man, seated amongst the elves and wearing clothing of a similar color and state as Cerin's, stared concernedly at the woman. She had flinched violently when the axe had struck the Ring and was now doing everything in her power to avoid looking in its direction.

"Fool, we cannot destroy it by any means that we here possess," Gandalf bit out at the dwarf.

"Then, if it can't be destroyed by any craft here, let us cast it into the deeps: in the sea it would be safe," said Glorfindel.

"Not safe forever," Gandalf said to the elf, "There are many things in the deep waters and lands may change. It is not our duty here to take thought for only a season, for a few lifetimes of Man, or for a passing age of the world. We should seek a final end to this terror, even if there is no hope to find one."

"I ask again, why not use the Ring? To destroy it is folly. Some say that Gondor wanes, but Gondor stands, and even at the end of its strength it is still very strong. With this gift Gondor will become the light to battle the darkness that lies in Mordor. Valor first needs strength, then a weapon. Let the Ring be your weapon, if it has such power as you say. Take it and go forth to victory!" Boromir argued, for both his pride and his nation.

It was at this point that Cerin turned an intense gaze to the Captain and decided to break her silence. "As I have said, that ring is not a 'gift' anyone should receive, not even the Gondorians. It twists the mind with promises of the bearer's deepest desires. But all will be for naught for its promises are nothing but pretty lies that lead to a crooked path, one that has even lured the great Saruman the White to tread. There is no hope in your desire to save your country with this menace," she said with great severity, all the while meeting his enraged gaze.

Her words drew the gaze of the entire Council to her slight frame, seated erect in her chair. Her face was blank except for the seriousness in her stare, which was still locked on the Gondorian across from her.

"What would a woman, dressed as a man no less, know about the matters of Gondor? Or much less the Ring of legend?" He asked with a thick layer of sarcasm.

"I have wandered far, Captain, and learned much in those wanderings. They are not tales suited for a gathering such as this. Regardless of where or how I gained my knowledge, I know that the Ruling Ring is altogether evil. As long as it remains in the world, it is a danger, even to the Wise. I fear to take the Ring to hide it. I would not wield it."

"It is true what Lady Anárion says, Boromir. To wield such power will bring a deadly peril to all. The very desire of it corrupts the heart. The Ring will not go to Gondor. Its vigilance can no longer hold back the Nine, and other roads he may find that Gondor does not guard. No one can foretell what will come if we take this road or that, but it seems clear to me now which road we must now take. The westward road seems the easiest, therefore it must be avoided. It will be watched. Now we must take a hard road, a road unforeseen. There lies our hope for victory, if it be hope at all. To walk into peril and darkness – to Mordor. The Ring must be cast back into the Fire," Elrond said with gravity and intensity.

"You cannot be serious, my Lord. One does not simply walk into Mordor. The Black Gates are guarded by more than just orcs. The Great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. To believe that someone would take the One Ring through unending wilderness, make it through the Dead Marshes, scale the Ash Mountains into Mordor to reach the Mountain of Fire, all without being seen by the all-knowing eye is pure folly! Not with ten thousand men could you do this," Boromir interjected.

"Well, let folly be our cloak, a veil before the eyes of the Enemy! For he is very wise, and he measures all things to a nicety in the scales of his malice. But the only thing he knows is desire, desire for power; and so he judges all hearts. He will not entertain the thought that any will refuse it, that having the Ring we may think to destroy it," Gandalf defended.

"The road must be taken, but it will be very hard. Neither strength nor wisdom will carry us far upon it. This quest may be taken by the weak with as much hope as the strong. Yet such is oft the course of deeds that move the world: small hands do them because they must, while the eyes of the great are elsewhere. To the Mountain of Fire one must carry the Ring and cast it into the Fire from which it was forged. One of you must do this," Elrond stated, his voice deep with the burden in his words.

No one offered a reply to this. Frodo glanced at everyone, but they were not facing him. All sat with downcast gazes, contemplating the Elf-Lord's words. A great dread fell on the hobbit, for he had hoped that events would not take such a turn. A great longing to remain in Rivendell with Bilbo blossomed in his chest. At last the silence was broken. Frodo was oddly detached from the words, as if it weren't him saying them.

"I will take the Ring," came his small voice, "though I do not know the way."

All turned to regard the hobbit, some with curiosity, some with surprise, and others with a grim acceptance.

"If you do not find a way, Frodo, no one will. This is the time of the Shire-folk, when they arise from their quiet fields to join the counsels of Great. But it is a heavy burden, one so great in size that one cannot lay it on another. But, if you choose it freely, then it is yours," Elrond said, giving the hobbit a keen glance.

"But surely he won't go alone!" Sam declared as he rushed out to stand by Frodo's side.

"No, at least you will go with him. It is hardly possible to separate you from him even when he is summoned to a secret Council and you are not," Elrond said with amusement.

"No, he will not go alone," came a female voice, "for I will be by his side. You have my skill, be them weaponry or scouting, and you have my knowledge," Cerin vowed in all seriousness as she knelt in front of the hobbit. She grasped his uninjured shoulder in a sign of friendship. "You also have my faith, Frodo. You will most definitely not bare this burden alone."

Frodo was taken aback by her unexpected oath of friendship and protection. He had just met her this very day, and yet she had sworn her life to him. Who was he to inspire such courage in others? Elrond, however, appeared troubled by her declaration.

"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear," Gandalf grimly promised the hobbit.

The rugged man stood and approached Frodo. "By my life or death, if I can protect you, I will," he vowed as he knelt before Frodo, "You have my sword."

"Thank you, Strider."

"And you have my bow," came from a handsome elf, Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood.

"And my axe," Gimli offered.

"You carry the fate of us all, little one. If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done," Boromir said.

Those that vowed to journey forth gathered around Frodo. They had chosen of their own will to face the future and all the danger it held, to go forth to Mordor and destroy the One Ring.

"Hey, wait! We're coming too!" came two voices in unison. From somewhere unknown two more hobbits appeared and rushed to Frodo's and Sam's sides. Elrond looked torn between surprise and acceptance: acceptance that where one hobbit was, the other three would follow.

"Besides, you need people of intelligence for this type of mission – quest – thing!" the smaller one, Pippin, proclaimed.

"Well, I guess that rules you out, Pip," the other, Merry, said back dully.

"Nine riders, nine members," Elrond looked meaningfully at Cerin who moved from her place besides Frodo towards the Lord.

"I am well aware of your respect for symbolism. I also know that this is my destined course. I feel it in my very being. I will go on this missive just as I have on previous ventures by your orders. If it pleases you, we may speak on this later," she said, determined. Elrond looked morosely resigned to his next words.

"Very well, you will be the Fellowship of the Ring," Elrond declared, looking at everyone but the woman.

His words rang out with an ominous finality. There was not much hope in their venture, but there was still hope for success. These were the ten people, of all races, in whose hands the fate of Middle-earth now rested completely. If they strayed but a little, they would doom them all.

"So, now that that's taken care of, may I know the names of the fine gentlemen I have now sworn to travel with for an indefinite amount of time?" Cerin questioned with a lighthearted smile on her face, trying to lighten the dark cloud of anxiety that had engulfed them all.

Before Elrond could move to chastise her for not being serious at such an important time, the two late-coming hobbits jumped up right in front of her. They wore happy smiles and looked to be the very definition of mischievous.

"Why, my fine lady, I do believe we haven't met. I am Peregrin Took, but everyone calls me Pippin. This fellow here is Meriadoc Brandybuck. Most call him Merry, though," Pippin told her in bright voice. When he finished speaking, he and Merry performed a gallant bow.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Masters Pippin and Merry. I am already acquainted with Frodo and Gandalf, but I'm afraid I do not know you're other companion."

The last hobbit moved slowly, shyly, from Frodo's side to join Merry and Pippin in front of the scout. All his previous bravado seemed to have vanished as he nervously introduced himself. "I'm Frodo's gardener, Samwise Gamgee, my lady."

"Well met, Master Gamgee," she nodded to him. She regarded all three of them and said confidently, "Frodo will need brave, caring friends like yourselves to help him bear this burden. I feel you all will do marvelously." She hoped to give them confidence with her words. Without faith in their own abilities, how could they have faith to succeed in their quest?

'_I believe we all will need to have faith, and hope. Yes, lots and lots of hope.'_

Without being prompted, the remaining members stepped forward to offer their identities. The next to speak was the handsome Elf-Lord. He cut a stunning figure with his sharp features and healthy long, blond hair, which was held by two braids: the same style that Cerin sported. He said his name was Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood and Ambassador for his father, King Thranduil.

The stout dwarf immediately and loudly introduced himself as Gimli, son of Gloin. He shot a smug look at the elf next to him while the elf gave an irritated, almost repulsed, expression back. '_Oh, they'll get along fabulously,'_she thought sarcastically. He had a large, bushy red beard that had a life of its own. His lack of height obviously didn't complement his large, opinionated personality or his boisterous voice.

The man dressed similarly to Cerin spoke up next. "I am known as Strider, my lady." He was polite in his manner, but he didn't offer any more to the conversation. He only took his place in the group next to Legolas and near Frodo.

"I am Boromir, son of the Steward of Gondor, and a Captain in the Osgiliath guard," the prickly man from earlier offered grudgingly. He still wore a look of frustration. Clearly, the Council's decision wasn't in his favor. "Now that the obligatory introductions are over and everyone is familiar with one another, I would like to assuage my nagging curiosity," he said sarcastically, "I would like to know why it is that an unrenowned Ranger and scout, one being _female_, are even present for such an important gathering? What could they possibly contribute to our cause?" Boromir asked derisively.

"Do you not know who he is? He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn! He is Isildur's heir!" Legolas shouted at him. Aragorn placed a restraining hand on his friend's arm. He was not pleased with the turn in the conversation. The hobbits looked at Aragorn rather confused. He had introduced himself to them as Strider.

"You mean to tell me that he is the heir to the throne of Gondor? Ha! Well, Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king," Boromir bit out, "And you,_my lady_? Do you have some profound ancestry that we are not privy to? Or are you just a woman parading around as a man seeking your fortune?"

At his words, Cerin blanched and Elrond tensed. She could not let them find out anything about her past. They would assuredly not allow her to join them on the quest if they knew. Worse yet, she didn't know if they would compromise her safety once they knew. '_I had best deter them from this line of conversation. No good can come from these questions,'_she thought others were staring at her, waiting for some insight into the mysterious woman.

"My past is of no importance to those here, my lord. I am simply a scout and a wanderer. As to my manner of dress, I do not see how it is a matter you have any say in, nor why it should bother you so, for you do not know me," she said blandly, "It is hard to fathom that the mere sight of a woman, whom you know nothing of, dressed as a man would upset you so. Unless, the true reason behind your petulance is because you have been denied the use of our quarry to bolster the waning strength of your homeland?"

Boromir sputtered indignantly. He seemed to be restraining himself from physically harming her; he was so enraged at her retort. Elrond stepped forward to put a stop to the belligerence when Boromir suddenly turned and swept from the clearing. Elrond turned to the female beside him, clearly angry.

"Why did you bait him so, Angulcóe? You knew what his reaction to your words would be, yet you persisted in throwing them at him like an undisciplined child!"

"A child? Hardly a child, Elrond," Cerin snorted, "What I spoke was truth. You know he is taking his anger at being denied the use of the Ring out on all of us, but mostly me because of my gender. I do not see the fairness in his accusations, nor in your failure to reprimand him for them. You of all people should know of what I have experienced, and that I am capable in my abilities, despite my being female. I would think the importance of the mission you assigned me for this very meeting would prove such. You have always seemed to see beyond the boundaries others judge me by. Why would now be any different?"

Elrond sighed quietly before answering her. "I do not doubt your abilities, Cerin. I know you are more than able to complete any task ahead of you, but it is not wise to invoke bad blood between your travel companions. His attitudes cannot be changed by force. It would do little good if I were to chastise him. I believe you will need to prove his beliefs false, and the upcoming journey is as good a time as ever, though I do not believe it to be the smartest choice of commitment," he said with a pointed look, one that only she knew the true reasoning behind.

"I will try to do as you say regarding Boromir's attitudes. However, what's done is done and what's said is said. I will do all in my power to see that the Ring reaches Mordor and is cast back into the very Fire that created it. I _will_ see that Sauron's reign of terror ends," Cerin spoke with a quiet, but unshakeable conviction.

Everyone stared at her, not knowing what to think of the young woman in front of them. She was an enigma to them; a puzzle that wasn't willing to be solved. She offered them no knowledge about her past when it was questioned. They did not know much beyond her sharp tongue, twinkling gaze, and weary but heartfelt smile.

Elrond just looked at her resignedly. He knew that he could do nothing to dissuade her from going forth with the others. If previous experiences with her determination were anything for him to go by, there really was nothing that could change her mind, not even the incredible danger that such a task meant for her.

"Then let it be so," Elrond capitulated solemnly, "In two months' time from now, you all will set forth to Mordor in an effort to destroy the Ruling Ring. You all know the difficulty of your task and the consequences of failure. Let us all hope for your success."

Cerin observed Frodo's face drop in seriousness, his body slumped from the burden of the future. '_I cannot make him forget his task, but I can help ease the burden and prepare him for the future.'_After an introspective silence, her mind returned to the present. Seeing an opportune moment, she turned to question the hobbits on another serious subject.

"Do any of you four have experience with weaponry?" They turned to her wide-eyed, obviously taken aback by her question and the change in conversation.

Sam, Pippin, and Merry all shook their heads in the negative, but Frodo hesitantly nodded. "Uncle Bilbo taught me some with a sword a while ago. I don't know much though," he admitted.

"Well, we only have two months so we're going to have to work fast. We cannot go out into the wilderness with you four not knowing anything of weapons or how to defend yourself," she said, then looked contemplative, "Would you both be willing to assist in their training? I believe that four students would be taught quicker and learn more from a variety of teachers."

"I agree that they should learn how to use a blade. I will assist in teaching the hobbits," Aragorn replied.

"As will I, though I believe Aragorn and Boromir are the better swordsmen. I specialize in archery but do know a good bit about blade work," Legolas said thoughtfully.

"Yes, Boromir may very well be one of the better swordsmen in the company. It would be best if he were included in the lessons. The hobbits would benefit from it," Aragorn continued.

"Aye, lass, I think it be best if you include young Aragorn and Boromir in the little ones' teaching, what with them knowing the ways of battle," Gimli piped in, "I would gladly assist as well, for dwarves are known for their prowess with a weapon, but my skill lies in the axe, hardly a beginner's weapon." Legolas adopted a completely disbelieving expression upon hearing his words.

Cerin sighed. She knew she would have to confront Boromir sooner or later. She had hoped it would be later - much later. She didn't look forward to the coming conversation in any capacity. She didn't want to face his onslaught of derisive comments regarding her knowledge or her gender. However, she would have to mend any burned bridges between them for the good of the fellowship. It was true that the man had a great deal of experience with a blade and the hobbits would benefit from his input. She would have to get over her doubts about the man and go talk to him.

'_I am not excited about having to converse with that man._ _He will no doubt ask questions about that which I want to remain hidden.'_

"I will endeavor to speak with Boromir this evening. Regardless of his decision, I think it best to begin tomorrow. Shall we meet at the training grounds after the morn meal?" she said resignedly.

It was agreed that the hobbits' training would begin the next day. Alas, the countdown of days until their departure would begin the next day as well.

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TBC

There are several areas that are almost, if not, completely verbatim from the text. They can be found in p259-p264 of the _Lord of the Rings: the Fellowship of the Ring._

Definitions:

Angulcóe: dragon

Please Review (^.^)


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, nor any of the affiliated characters. I only own Cerin (my OC). Any references to the books or movie are acknowledged. Any infringement on my part is purely accidental and unintended.

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Chapter 2:

Deep Conversations and Childish Antics

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_'I wasn't expecting to deal with a lecture from Elrond - not this soon, at least.'_

Cerin had been pulled aside by Elrond immediately after the Council had concluded with the introductions and the decision on the hobbits' training. He expressed his many concerns about her accompanying the fellowship to Mordor. He warned that she could be _seen_ by their Enemy and how disastrous that would be for all of Middle earth. She had responded that, _yes,_she was aware of the danger she had placed herself in by agreeing to go, and, _yes_, she was still going to go despite it. She had also argued that her past did not stop her from contributing to the fellowship and assisting in its goal. When faced with this argument, Elrond gradually dropped the issue, but not without adding a few last comments about the sizeable danger that she was already well aware of.

Cerin had not walked two hallways over from Elrond's study before she came across Gandalf. He appeared deep in thought but awoke from his contemplation as she approached him.

_'Why do my rooms have to be down this way? I should have taken the long route. All I want is a bath after travelling as I did. Well, maybe all that will be exchanged are pleasantries. I can hope that will be all.'_

She was wrong in her hope. Gandalf, though no longer sporting an angry manner, had wanted to further question her about her experience in Isengard. But she could offer the Istari no new information, for she had explained all that she knew at the Council. He accepted that she couldn't give him more insight into his fallen leader. Cerin left before he could question her further, and maybe with a more personal topic.

Cerin finally made it back to her room after the long, unwanted conversation with the wizard. The bath was every bit as wonderful as she had expected it to be. Washing away all of the travel grime was pure bliss. Her auburn hair hung in damp waves down her back, which were no longer tangled thanks to the bath. She dressed herself in a clean pair of brown breeches and a green tunic. She once again donned her forest green cloak, for she had no replacement. Cerin decided to forgo her sword and bow, only attaching her dagger to her hip. She did not feel the need to heavily arm herself while residing in place that had been a home to her.

Now clean, Cerin tiredly decided to seek out the Gondorian Captain for that promised conversation. She headed to the gardens first. Even if she didn't find the man there, she would enjoy the detour. Cerin had always been fond of the gardens in Imladris. Their beauty and peacefulness almost commanded one to relax.

The calm would not last though, for an unruly hobbit came bolting around the bend in the hedge. It was Pippin that rushed past, and not three seconds later that Merry followed. The moment Pippin spotted Cerin, he altered his course to head straight for her. Just as Merry came around the corner he darted behind the woman, holding tightly to fistfuls of her breeches.

Outraged, Merry confronted the cowering hobbit, "You take back what you said, fiend!"

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes!"

"NO!"

"YES!"

"NO, I will not!"

At some point in the argument, Pippin had come out from behind Cerin and proceeded to poke Merry harshly in the chest, as if it furthered his point. Merry of course did the same to Pippin. It all seemed a rather fruitless endeavor from Cerin's third party perspective.

"Sorry to interrupt, gentlemen, but might I ask what has upset you both so?"

"He did not agree that the Green Dragon has the best ale in the entire Shire!" Merry said, aghast.

"No, I merely said that we had not yet tasted _all_ the ale in the Shire, so we could not know which establishment has the best ale. I suggest a_thorough_ sampling upon our return," Pippin added haughtily, and surprisingly, reasonably.

The hobbits looked over at her as Cerin laughed generously at their words. _All the ruckus was over ale?_ Apparently, yes, they were truly fighting about ale. It seemed a great deal more important than she thought it was because once she voiced her thoughts, the two looked at her as if she were loony. Cerin had only a moment to realize that Frodo and Sam had joined them, at a leisurely pace, too, before Merry and Pippin performed a perfect running tackle on the woman. They were at the perfect height to grasp her knees and topple her surprised form to the ground.

"Gah!"

"Ale is extremely important! How dare you say it isn't!" one of the two yelled and started to tickle her.

" 'Tis the best drink! It is a drink fit for every occasion! It's perfectly acceptable to argue over which ale is best!" the other shouted and joined in tickling Cerin.

"Yes, apologize for your grievous mistake!" someone exclaimed loudly.

The woman didn't want to hurt the little ones, so, laughing, she allowed them to continue in their attack. Besides, all involved were greatly enjoying themselves. Frodo and Sam had stopped just short of the writhing mass on the ground and adopted amused looks. They also didn't look taken aback by the goings on in front of them.

_'They must do this a lot. And by the looks of it, Frodo and Sam must be fellow victims.'_

So, the loud, amused laughter of four hobbits and a rugged woman continued to fill the late afternoon air.

***.*.*.*.***

In a study on the opposite side of the House stood two tall figures, both conversing on serious matters. Many topics had come to head, and were put to rest after a short time. But now one last, rather enigmatic, subject was introduced.

"The woman, she is not the normal courtly lady one usually sees," Gandalf mused to the elf before him.

"Nay, Cerin is a special case, my friend," Elrond said guardedly.

"I would certainly say so. One does not see a courtly woman dressed as a man and commanding the respect of others in such a way as she did at the Council. Nor, does a normal woman go on scouting missions for an Elven Lord."

The elf sighed heavily, as though the very weight of Middle earth was set on his shoulders. It was a long story, that woman's history, but a story Gandalf would need to hear nonetheless. He turned to the window, eyes glazing in a contemplative way before continuing.

"Cerin was born to Daeron and Saradoc of Calanhad twenty-six years ago in Gondor. She was the second child in their union, the first being a son that was born two years prior. They lived as villagers, peasants, really. They lived out their lives far from anyone who would have knowledge of their heritage, far removed from the Enemy," Elrond began, "When Cerin was ten summers, her parents succumbed to an illness that had spread far across the lands. Her brother, Túrin, had barely survived the epidemic. They set out to find family, but the search was an empty one, for they had none. They somehow managed to travel to the Andúin where my sons met them. They were questioned, but were ultimately brought into my dwelling. They were hired as servants, but they made a home in my heart and became more of foster children to me. It is here that they learned the ways of weapons and survival. Túrin was set to join the guard in his eighteenth summer, and Cerin a while later. Yes, I realize it is unheard that a woman should join the guard, but she was a determined youth, that one, and my heart was soft. On Túrin's first mission, his troop was ambushed by orcs. Túrin didn't survive. In her despair, Cerin hid herself in books of lore. It was here that she discovered her importance."

Elrond paused in his monologue, and his shoulders slumped more from the weight of his knowledge. Gandalf remained seated, eyes locked on the Lord.

"Through many generations she traced her lineage. All unions led to one ancestor-Valandil."

The elf heard a deep gasp come from the wizard behind him upon his words. Elrond finally turned to face him.

"No, this cannot be!" the Istari exclaimed.

"Yes, Cerin is the descendent of Valandil, the son of Sauron, and ultimately, Sauron himself," Elrond said with gravity.

"The girl changed mightily after her brother's death. She trained harder than ever, though she did not join the guard. She took on the ways of the Rangers, stealth and nomadic, though she could not join them. She is very gifted in her ability. I do not only employ her on quests because I wish to keep her close to Imladris and myself, but because I know she can accomplish the tasks I give her," Elrond finished as he sank into a cushioned chair near the hearth.

After a long silence, a small chuckle burst from the wizard. "Leave it to you, my friend, to adopt the heir of Sauron!"

A wry smile crossed the elf's face, "Yes, well, my last foster child, Aragorn, had already left to seek his fortune. It gets almost, lonely, here, Gandalf."

The other man's amusement turned sour upon his friend's reply, knowing the truth behind the words. Yes, time can bring loneliness, especially when one has an infinite amount of it before them.

"I assume you realize the danger of her accompanying us on this quest, my friend?"

"Yes, I am well aware, as is she. I can do nothing to change her mind. I do believe, however, that if she so chooses to reveal her heritage to the fellowship, she could help Frodo and Aragorn in their burdens. She has done well in accepting this turn of events, markedly better than Estel with his past."

"This is a hard decision, my friend. Do we let a woman who is the ancestor of our enemy travel alongside his greatest quarry, one which he is actively seeking? Or do we force her to return to the wilderness she now often travels what with the minions roaming freely? I think it will be better for all, though only by a slight margin, that she accompanies us to Mordor. It is a small comfort that he does not know of her existence, nor is he seeking her like he is the Ring. We should keep her close. It is comforting that she has skill with a blade and isn't helpless in that regard. She won't be some frightened damsel, at least from what I've seen," Gandalf finished.

A loud laugh burst from the Elven Lord at the Istari's words.

"No, that woman is no simpering damsel!"

***.*.*.*.***

Back in the gardens, the rough-housing was coming to an end. Their chuckles slowly puttering out as they sat up on the rich grass and looked at each other's grass stained clothing and dirt smudged faces.

"All right, little ones, I concede to your view. Ale is a mighty fine drink. I am sorry for my error," Cerin tried to say seriously, though a small grin broke through near the end.

Before either of the troublesome hobbits could retort, a deep, clear voice rang out from behind them, from the other side of the garden.

"Ah, they got you to join them in that line of conversation, my lady?" Aragorn said amusedly, gazing at the large spot of dirt on her right cheek and tousled hair, "And from the looks of things, I'd have to guess that you disagreed with their opinion."

"You would have guessed correctly, my Lord. Although, I have paid for my mistake and have corrected my belief on the subject," Cerin responded while standing and attempting to brush off some of the dirt on her once clean clothes.

It was then that she noticed the other male standing next to Aragorn. Boromir looked like he was amused by their antics, but grudgingly so.

_'I guess that conversation has finally come to the fore. I don't think I'm going to enjoy this.'_

"Ah, Lord Boromir, how do you fare?" she questioned politely.

"I am well, Lady. I must say though that those hobbits look to be a handful. I was wondering, Lady Cerin, if you would care to join me on a walk through the gardens?"

"I would like that," she replied before turning to bid farewell to Aragorn and the hobbits. She thanked the smallest two for the enjoyable afternoon and that she would see all of them on the morrow. They all watched as Boromir and Cerin walked away down the path and further into the gardens.

They had not walked far before Cerin had paused to inspect a particularly beautiful flower. Boromir stood a small distance away from the woman, simply observing, with his arms clasped at the small of his back.

"I must apologize, my lady, for my unforgivable behavior at the Council. Although I am not used to a woman of your likeness, I do not hold the views of women that I am sure I portrayed to you. I must apologize again, I did not handle the Council's decision well," he said sincerely, "I needed time to mull over the happenings of this day and stop being such a brute."

"I accept, Boromir. I realize that one of your standing must first look out for his nation above all else. You fear for Gondor. I understand, though, I must say again that the Ring is not the solution you should seek," she said softly, compassionately.

"You are right, lady. I do fear for Gondor. Her strength wanes as Mordor's builds. The great shadow is slowly covering the lands that I hold dear. Perhaps I was hasty in my desire to use the Ring, but I have not fully accepted that yet. I will probably accept it in time. For now, I will do as I swore to do; escort the Ring into the Fire."

"I believe that you will do as you say you will. I know what the first act of your oath should be, Boromir. You should help on the morrow with the training of the hobbits in the ways of battle. They will greatly need the experience when we set out."

"I will do as you suggest and assist in the little ones' training. Though, I must ask, Lady Cerin, why is it that you vowed to take this journey? Pardon me in saying, but it is not one I would see a woman on."

She had long since turned from the flowers to address the man before her. At his last words though, she briefly looked away from his gaze, contemplating her response.

"I have reasons for going on this quest that are long since buried. The largest reason I have is to prove to myself that I am not who I was destined to be, Boromir," she said vaguely.

"And, who are you destined to be?"

"Someone of my choosing."

It was not the meaning he had intended in his question, but he received an answer nonetheless. She would be someone created from the decisions she made and the paths those decisions led her on. She would make her own destiny, not one that was dictated by her lineage. Cerin would completely defy her heritage by destroying her ancestor's greatest treasure and Middle Earth's greatest threat. She would do all of this by going with the fellowship and protecting the small hobbit, Frodo. And no one would stop her.

***.*.*.*.***

TBC

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	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, nor any of the affiliated characters. I only own Cerin (my OC). Any references to the books or movie are acknowledged. Any infringement on my part is purely accidental and unintended.

***.*.*.*.***

Chapter 3:

An Anxious Departure

***.*.*.*.***

The two months' time before their departure was quickly coming to an end. It was now only a day before the company left on their quest. An anxious air cloaked the Last Homely House and increased the dread for the morrow.

Much had changed and grown since the Council of Elrond. Cerin had become quite close with the four hobbits under hers, Aragorn's, and Boromir's tutelage. It was almost inevitable for the bond of friendship to sprout between them after the spectacular flying tackle Merry and Pippin had performed and the following tickle fight they had together. Their relationship had really flourished once Merry had offered her an important insight into the priorities of hobbits. The woman could never stop a smile from forming when she thought of that day.

***.*.*.*.***

_Flashback_

Cerin sat on a beautifully carved stone bench in her favorite garden while looking at the hobbit standing before her and prepared herself to humor him. Merry stood a small distance away with a serious expression and a self-important stance. After a moment of silence, Merry loudly cleared his throat and clasped his hands together at the small of his back.

"Yes, now after your grievous mistake that we will not mention here, I -," Merry began.

"We!" Pippin interjected.

"- We - have decided to educate you on the most important things to us hobbits," Merry finished with a glare directed at Pip who had seated himself next to Cerin on the bench.

"Listen closely now. The most important things in the life of a hobbit are food, ale, and pipe weed," Merry said very seriously.

There was a long moment of silence before Cerin spoke, "That's it?"

Merry and Pippin both turned to her with incredulous expressions and exclaimed together. "What do you mean 'that's it'?"

"They are very important things!" Pippin added indignantly from his place beside her.

Cerin saw the beginnings of a potential argument and realized she had inadvertently insulted them again.

"Ah," she coughed, "of course they are important. It's good to keep things simple and short. My mistake."

_End Flashback_

***.*.*.*.***

Frodo and Sam didn't use a tactic quite so violent to begin their friendship with the woman, but had merely held a quiet conversation about the beauty of the Shire and their homes. The reverence and homesickness with which they spoke pulled at Cerin's heart and only strengthened her wish to distract them all from the coming darkness. She sought to distract them with quiet understanding and an occasional playful episode. Her efforts didn't erase their melancholy, but it was obvious they appreciated her and her willingness to help them.

When the four weren't talking to Cerin, tickling her, or eating, they were at the training grounds being taught how to handle a weapon by herself, Aragorn, or Boromir. The hobbits picked up on the lessons quickly and with enthusiasm. On some days, Legolas or Gimli would join them and sit on the sidelines to watch the spectacle. Legolas would work on his arrows' fletching or some other minor repairs, but Gimli loved to shout out _helpful _hints to the students. His advice usually proved to distract the hobbits rather than help them. Actually, Pippin had once turned to question the dwarf further, but Sam was unable to stop his downward slash completely and gave the other one a nice cut on his calf.

The hobbits were not suddenly battle-hardened soldiers but they could now hold and swing a weapon without injuring the person standing next to them. The most improved on this principle was Pippin. He had the attention span of a fish, that boy, and an appetite of a horse.

When not at the training grounds, Cerin spent her time either in the gardens or in Elrond's study. She wanted to absorb the calm of her home and cherish its amazing beauty. Cerin chose to hole herself away in the Lord's study to spend as much time as she could with the elf that had become a father to her. Other than her short stay before going to Isengard, she had not been back to visit him for three years. Wandering had brought her peace with her brother's death, but at the same time the absence of her only family and the loneliness of travel had whittled away at her heart. She cherished the time she spent with Elrond and in her favorite places before she left indefinitely.

There was another reason for her frequent visits to the gardens and the abundant amount of time with Elrond. Cerin had taken to avoiding Gandalf sometimes. He had given her some odd looks in passing. His face would remain the normal contemplative look he always held, but his eyes would hold a mixture of confusion and – _fear?_ No, he couldn't be afraid of her, but he must have been perplexed by the puzzle she posed. His glances disturbed her, so she sought to hide away in her favorite places. She would have to do something about her anxiety of the wizard because on the morrow she would be traveling with the man.

In fact, she had many emotions about the next day. She dreaded leaving her home again and the last of her family. She knew she was leaving the calm and magic of Rivendell to head straight into the growing shadow. Cerin was well lectured on the dangers and hardships the company would confront, as well as the possible dangers for one of her heritage. Despite all of these negative feelings, she was still set on finishing their task. Her desire to thwart her ancestor and the Enemy of Middle Earth and support Frodo overrode any misgivings she had about the quest.

With her determination on the forefront of her mind, Cerin turned away from the picturesque scene visible from her rooms and set about double checking her travel packs to be ready for the next day.

***.*.*.*.***

It was the day of their leaving and the fellowship stood gathered near the gates before a large procession of elves, all citizens of Imladris. Standing at the fore were Lord Elrond, Arwen Evenstar, and Bilbo Baggins.

The company was clad in little of the gear of war. Their hope had always been in secrecy and not in battle. Aragorn had his sword at his side but no other visible weapons. He wore naught but the rusty green and brown clothing of the Rangers. Cerin wore similar clothing of the same shades. She had her blade at her side and her bow and quiver upon her back. She was more heavily armed than the others, but she believed she would be the one travelling closest to Frodo. Boromir had his long sword, a shield, and his war-horn. Gimli openly wore his shirt of chainmail, cinched with a large leather belt bearing his broad axe. Legolas had his quiver, bow, and a long white blade at his side. The younger hobbits, Merry and Pippin, wore the blades Strider had given them at Weathertop. Frodo had only Sting, the blade given by his Uncle Bilbo, and the mail-coat which was hidden under his normal clothing. Gandalf had his staff and the elven sword, Glamdring, at his hip. All were well furnished by Elrond with warm clothes, thick jackets, and cloaks lined with fur. Their spare food, clothes, and blankets were packed on the pony, Bill, who stood beside Sam.

Cerin stood behind the four hobbits, gazing up at her adoptive father. Her position near the little ones was decided for their comfort and also to keep them under her eye. Gandalf and Aragorn stood the next closest to the four. Both were at attention with grave faces. Boromir was next to Gandalf, one hand clutching his blade. Legolas and Gimli had positioned themselves on opposite sides of the company, still trying to avoid each other.

Everyone focused their gaze on the Elven-Lord when he quietly cleared his throat. Cerin observed the faces she would not see for a long while. Biblo, standing next to Arwen, was looking longingly towards Frodo, who was avoiding the gaze mightily. Arwen held such a look of sorrow as she took in Aragorn's battle-ready figure that it was painful to bear such a sight. Curiously, he was also avoiding her stare, but his eyes held a similar pain in them. Finally, she turned to take in the Lord. His face was foreboding and grim.

"Do you still hold to your word, Frodo, that you will be the Ring-Bearer?" he said straight to the hobbit.

"I do," Frodo said, "I will go with Sam and the rest."

"Then, this is my last word," he said in a low voice, "The Ring-Bearer is setting out on the Quest of Mount Doom. On him alone is any charge laid: neither to cast away the Ring, nor to deliver it to any servant of the Enemy, nor to let anyone handle it besides those appointed at the Council, and only in the greatest need. The others go with him as free companions, to help him on his way. You may tarry, or come back, or turn aside to other paths. The further you travel, the harder it will be to leave the company; yet you are not held by any oath or bond to go further than you will. The strength of your hearts will determine the distance you travel and you, nor I, can foresee what you will meet on the road."

"Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens," Gimli muttered.

"Maybe, but let him not vow to conquer the darkness when he has not yet seen nightfall," Elrond replied.

"Yet sworn word may strengthen a faltering heart."

"Or break it. Look not too far ahead! But go now with good hearts! Farewell, and may the blessing off the Elves and Men and all Free Folk go with you. May the stars shine upon your faces!" Elrond bid to them at last.

"Don't be long, Frodo my lad," Bilbo said lightly.

With those words, the fellowship turned towards Rivendell's boundary. As they walked, those of Elrond's house that had gathered in the shadows quietly bid them farewell, then they faded silently into the falling dusk. No farewells were given from the Lord or his daughter for they had already been given privately the day before. As they disappeared around the bend from the courtyard, Arwen finally gave into her grief and let her tears fall while Elrond maintained his stony expression.

They crossed the bridge and wound slowly up the long, steep path that led out of the valley. Then, with one final glance at the Last Homely House twinkling below, they turned and strode far into the night.

***.*.*.*.***

TBC

Most of the farewell speech and descriptions are quoted from _The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring_ p 268-274

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	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, nor any of the affiliated characters. I only own Cerin (my OC). Any references to the books or movie are acknowledged. Any infringement on my part is purely accidental and unintended.

***.*.*.*.***

Chapter 4:

The Journey South

***.*.*.*.***

They set a hard pace out of Imladris. They walked many hours of the day, rising at dawn and resting after night had long since fallen. Meals were also few and often bland, the same hard bread and warm water the only options to fill their bellies. The hobbits were the most disgruntled about the diminished menu, but there simply wasn't any time or the energy to look among the fauna for anything that might give them variety. It was a difficult journey for the little ones what with their small stature. Nevertheless they kept pace with the company.

They trekked on the unbeaten paths, through forests, and over streams and avoided the roads at all costs. Their destination was the Dimrill Dale, to climb the pass called Redhorn gate under the far side of Caradhras, and then descend the Dimrill Stair into the valley of the dwarves on to the River Silverlode. They had not decided on a path after they reached the River. Gandalf had warned of the dangers of thinking too far into the future. 'One must be open to all paths of travel,' he had said when Aragorn had pressed him.

The ten companions often followed Gandalf, one after the other. He was the undeclared leader and no one had contested his position. Behind the wizard followed Aragorn, then Gimli and Boromir. Frodo, Sam, Merry, and then Pippin trudged behind the Gondorian. Cerin often chose to walk behind the hobbits in order to make sure they kept up the pace and so she could engage them in conversation. It was a smart decision on her part because her presence dulled the tide of ridiculous questions Pippin fancied to ask of Gandalf. His temper was sorely tested in those first couple days of travel. Legolas walked behind her bringing up the rearguard.

The days proved to be monotonous. The men seemed preoccupied with planning their route and deciding who would take which watch shift. Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas, and Boromir were often seen huddled around one another after camp had been established discussing things of a similar nature to those of previous days. Gimli could usually be heard grumbling about not being asked his opinion and rudely interjecting said opinions. Cerin had not been invited to join them, nor had they ever given her a watch shift. When they consistently didn't ask for her opinion, she abandoned her efforts of lingering near them at these times and simply chose to settle near the hobbits. In her wandering and tasks from Elrond, she had traveled much of the path they planned to take, yet she figured any knowledge she offered them would not be taken fully to heart. She was still an enigma to most of the fellowship despite her long hours interacting with them. Her past remained a mystery to everyone except Gandalf. They knew her to be compassionate, giving, determined, and lighthearted, but that is where their knowledge of her ended. She was a woman, possessed knowledge of weapons, and a scout for an Elf-Lord. She was still a new breed of woman to most of them.

To a point she could understand their actions, but their refusal to include her did hurt her on some level. She had shown her proficiency with a blade while training the hobbits, so inexperience couldn't be motivating their actions. This whole thing was most likely a strange chivalry on their part because even if she wore breeches they still saw her as a woman. She understood their actions because the mindset of Middle Earth was that women did not know the ways of battle and were delicate things. Though this idea was an obstacle she had faced many times before, it was simply frustrating for the woman to have to deal with it again. She had fought her whole life to do the things she had wanted to do in life, most of them happened to be commonly accepted for the male gender. Yet, here she was, being ostracized from her companions with the reasoning most likely being her gender. These thoughts had put a damper on her days, making the already gloomy travel even grimmer for her.

The only thing that truly brightened her day was her conversations with the little ones. Even in these dark times, they all still radiated innocence and playfulness. It reminded the woman of her childhood of playing games with her brother. They constantly spoke of the Shire and its beauty. Their longing expressions tugged at Cerin's heart and made her wish to see this wonderful place. She didn't know if she would ever get the chance though. Merry and Pippin still continued to argue over which establishment offered the best ale and which type of pipe-weed was the greatest. Cerin had smartly decided to not involve herself in those discussions. Another favorite topic that they often spoke of was food. The only thing besides their homeland that could hold any amount of their attention was their appetites.

"Oh how I wish we could have second breakfast and tea time," Pippin often groaned to all those listening and even those who weren't, "I'm shriveling away to nothing!"

"I highly doubt that," she had once replied. Pippin had been smarting over that for the rest of the day and wouldn't so much as glance in her direction.

The four served to amuse Cerin during the long treks. But, once camp had been set up and if they had the time and energy, she would continue their training with the blade. It was usually just her that would participate in any of these sessions as the men would be having one of their nightly 'discussions'. Though sometimes Boromir would pull himself away from the talk and join Cerin in her teaching. He too had seemed to develop a fondness for the little hobbits. It surprised her at first to see the gentle corrections he used to fix any mistakes. It didn't fit his rough warrior appearance. He had also softened towards her after his apology so long ago in the gardens of Imladris. He no longer criticized her, but kept a healthy skepticism and treated her with respect.

_'And I'm glad for the change. I do not know if I could deal with a countenance towards me like the one seen at the Council. I at least have one friendly face besides my four shadows,' _she thought wryly.

Cerin hadn't really formed any sort of bond with her companions other than the hobbits, though the lack of friendship wasn't because she had declined it. Legolas, while polite and friendly, tended to keep to himself while looking pensive and only spoke with Aragorn and Gandalf. But, she knew of elves and of their solitary nature. He would come around eventually, maybe when this shadow didn't weigh so heavily on everyone's minds. Gimli was often too busy grumbling about the injustices brought upon dwarves and the pitfalls of elves to strike up much of a conversation with Cerin. His constant complaining made it difficult to carry a conversation sometimes. Could he be content with nothing? Gandalf was always leading the group and contemplating something or other, so she wasn't entirely surprised when he didn't entertain to speak of lighter matters with her. Aragorn had remained polite to her and sometimes would speak with her, mostly about where she had traveled and her skill with her weapons. She greatly desired to learn of his experiences as a Ranger, but she didn't wish to bother the man with her questions. Cerin's lack of camaraderie with most of the company afforded her the time to observe her companions, usually once they had stopped for the night. At these times of observation, she had occasionally seen a deep pain flash in Aragorn's eyes. It was likely he didn't know anyone had seen him in his moment of weakness, or was it _memory?_ She didn't know the cause of his pain and she didn't believe it was her place to ask him.

The days were full of wariness, hunger, exhaustion, and homesickness and passed slowly. One day of exertion stretched into the next without any distinction. After what seemed like months, the fellowship was now only a couple days' journey from reaching the Redhorn Gate. It was at a rocky, open plateau that they took a rare rest. Most were perched on a large boulder and scattered around the camp. Aragorn and Gandalf were once again confirming details as they often did. Legolas was keeping watch near the edge of the camp, looking out over the vast and barren land. Gimli sat observing Boromir and Cerin sparring with Merry and Pippin and shouting out his usual _helpful_ hints that the hobbits had, thankfully, learned to ignore. Frodo and Sam seated themselves near the dwarf to watch the skirmish.

"Yes! There you go, Merry. Now, block my thrust," Cerin instructed. Merry blocked her thrust and made a strike towards her body which she countered.

"Now, one, four, two," Boromir directed Pippin's form while battling with him. He had improved a great deal since he started training, but Pippin lost focus when Sam announced the meal was ready. The hobbit turned sharply and suddenly, causing Boromir to knick him.

"Ow! That was uncalled for, my good sir! You'll pay for that, you will!" he shouted and launched himself towards the Man with his weapon high.

Merry heard the distress of his cousin and turned from his own fight. It was unfair for a man to bully someone half his size!

"Ah! For the Shire!" he shouted, as if it were a war cry. He quickly dropped his blade and performed his diving tackle around the back of the Captain's knees. He caught the man by surprise and made him face plant on the rocky soil. Pippin, too, dropped his weapon and jumped into the writhing, shouting mass in front of him. Cerin, while surprised at the turn in their training, was enjoying the sight.

"All right, now. I believe you've avenged yourselves and the Shire quite enough," Cerin finally spoke, grasping for the smaller bodies in the mass before her. She managed to grip Pippin's flailing arm and Merry's shirt back and pulled them up off of the tousled Boromir. She set them down away from the man, preparing to scold them but was having a hard time hiding her smile. She turned to ask Boromir if he were all right.

"Are you—," she began.

"What's that there?" Sam asked over her. Everyone turned to look at what he was speaking of.

"Why, that's but a wisp of cloud," Gimli grunted.

Aragorn came to stand beside Legolas, gazing intently out at the cloud.

"It don't look like a cloud," Sam added.

"Nay, it moves against the wind!" Boromir said from his position on the ground. The tension grew greatly at his words.

Legolas gazed harder at the 'cloud'. Flocks of birds, flying at great speed, were wheeling and circling the sky as though searching for something. The flock was fast approaching. Suddenly, a group broke off from the main flock and seemed to be heading straight for the ridge they were camped on. The elf turned with haste, "Crebain from Dunland! Hide!"

The camp became a mad scramble to hide all proof that they had been there and then hide themselves from view. The fire was quickly stamped out, the meal abandoned. Packs were grabbed and shoved behind bushes, bodies squeezing under shrubs. Cerin was making her own dash for shelter when she spied Pippin's blade lying on the ground in the open. She turned sharply and backtracked to the weapon. Picking it up, she turned to run for the bush she was originally heading for when she was grabbed harshly around her middle and jerked sideways under a large shrub. She turned to see who had grabbed her and was met with Aragorn's grim face mere inches from her own. Her eyes locked with his own deep brown gaze. His brow pinched and he held a finger up to his lips, signaling for her to be silent. They had to huddle close to both fit under the small plant. She had just settled in her place when the first sounds of squawking reached them. The noise grew until it was a complete cacophony of shrieks, deafening the fellowship. Cerin felt Aragorn's arm tighten around her middle when the sound reached its highest and became painful.

After several minutes, the flock of spies completely passed over them and hopefully none the wiser to the fellowship's presence. Only after a long stretch of silence did anyone venture to move from hiding. Rustling could be heard as people emerged from their spots. Aragorn's arm finally loosened from its grip on her, allowing her to crawl out. Everyone looked slightly bedraggled but intact.

"Hollin is no longer wholesome for us; it is being watched. How we would make it over the pass without being seen, I do not know," Gandalf informed them, "We must go over the Caradhras."

"We should move again once night has fallen," Aragorn suggested to the wizard.

"Aye, I am afraid that you are right, friend."

All turned to look up at the snow-covered obstacle before them, realizing it would be a hard, cold passage. With the decision made, they gathered up their stashed belongings and headed towards the mountain.

***.*.*.*.***

It had taken almost a week to reach the base of the mountain. It had taken longer than the couple days originally thought because they now had to be even more watchful and wary. They began the climb up the slope, the incline an added burden on their tired legs. The snow gradually started to cover the ground as they climbed higher and higher. They climbed up into a horrible storm. Fierce winds blew frigid air against their bodies and ripped through their thick clothing. Snow flurries made it impossible to see more than a few feet ahead of their faces. Soon the banks were up to the Men's knees and almost at the shoulders of the hobbits. Aragorn and Boromir each carried a hobbit on their backs while trying to stamp a path in the snow for those following behind them. Cerin was faring as well as the Men in regards to her stamina, but she could not compare to the elf's resilience to the cold. She alternated between carrying one of the little ones and going ahead to try to form a path. Legolas was the envy of the fellowship, walking on top of the fallen snow as if it were the hard ground. He would go further ahead to scout the route while the others trudged behind.

It was on a long, open path away from the cliff face that there was a sudden shout from behind Cerin. She turned with Sam on her back to see Frodo tumble end over end down the steep path. She began to move for him when he caught himself. He sat up and sighed with relief. His hand grasped for his neck and when his hand met nothing, he frantically looked around him. Frodo and Cerin paused as they saw Boromir stoop and grasp a chain. It sparkled in the pure white reflected by the snow. Boromir was captivated by what he held. The enraptured look in the Man's eyes disturbed Cerin a great deal. She sadly recognized the true meaning for his actions. Despite her words against his desire to possess the Ring, it already had a hold on his heart.

Cerin was startled when Aragorn appeared next to her with his hand tight on his blade. "Boromir, give Frodo the Ring," he said firmly.

At Aragorn's words, Boromir seemed to wake from his trance and glanced up at the Ranger and the woman. He looked to have finally realized what he held and slowly turned towards the hobbit. Frodo hesitantly held out his hand, afraid of the man. Boromir grudgingly parted with the Ring and placed it gently in the hobbit's proffered hand. Frodo snatched his hand closed once he held it, quickly pulling the chain over his head and tucking the Ring under his cloak and shirt.

"Now, now. I meant no harm, little one," he said cheerily while lightly patting Frodo's head. Boromir turned and headed up the path and on past the two motionless figures. Once he was past, Aragorn turned to Cerin.

"You best keep a sharp eye," he said quietly and with deep meaning as he gazed up at Boromir's tense form. Cerin could only nod in response while she felt Sam tighten his hold on her neck in response to the Man's words. Aragorn, too, turned and continued on after that.

Cerin moved quickly down to the fallen and still shaken hobbit. She lightly clasped his shoulder but moved away when he flinched. He looked up at her fearfully, but looked ashamed once he saw the hurt in her eyes.

"We mean you no harm, Frodo. I have sworn to protect you, and I will, even from the fellowship if I have to," she swore to him.

"That's right, Master Frodo. I'll stick by you, no matter who or what I have to face!" Sam vowed from Cerin's back.

Frodo finally crawled to his feet and looked meaningfully at the two beside him.

"Thank you."

Cerin slowly put her hand back on the hobbit's shoulder. He made no move to avoid it, so she gently steered him back up the path to the others, now far ahead of them and barely visible. From then on, she made sure that Frodo was always in front of her and in sight.

Later, they had paused briefly and Legolas was speaking with Gandalf about their course. Suddenly, Legolas turned sharply to face away from the mountain out into the storm.

"There is a fell voice on the wind!" Gandalf listened to the wind, too.

"It is Saruman! He's trying to bring down the mountain!" he announced.

Everyone tensed. Gandalf looked out into the heart of the storm with determination. He raised his staff and began to challenge Saruman. The snow became thicker and swirled all around them, the winds fiercer and more biting. The mountain itself was shaking. After a particularly violent tremor, Cerin grabbed for Frodo and brought him to her side against the rock face and away from the edge. There was a deep rumble, seeming to shake the very air.

"Look out!"

The world turned a blinding white after those words reached her ears. Cold and darkness encompassed her body and she could hardly breathe. Snow, she was buried in snow; an avalanche. She tried to reign in her panic as she dug upwards. Finally, her hand broke the surface to reach the biting wind. She slowly pulled herself up out of the hole and began digging back down for Frodo without waiting to catch her breath.

She pulled the hobbit up. He was gasping for air and shivering like mad. Looking around, she saw the others pulling themselves out of the snow. They looked worse than she had ever seen them but all were alive. Cerin pulled Frodo into her arms trying to warm his freezing body.

"We cannot take much more of this! The hobbits cannot take much more of this!" Boromir shouted out.

"Let us go to Moria, to the mines!" Gimli shouted to Gandalf.

"No, I would not take that path," Gandalf argued back.

"Gandalf, if we continue, we most likely will not survive," Cerin said to the wizard by her side. All looked to the bedraggled, defeated figure imploringly, wishing he'd see reason.

"Let the Ring bearer decide," he said, looking to Frodo with a grim look.

Frodo stiffened in Cerin's arms, not comfortable with the decision. He looked at each of their faces, seeing their hope that he would lead them off the mountain. He saw no other choice as this way was just too hard to take.

"We will go to the Mines," he said, loud enough that all could hear his words.

Frodo's decision made Gandalf look like he aged a century. His posture slumped, leaning hard against his staff. The lines in his face deepened. His eyes held the burden of knowledge as he looked at the hobbit.

"So be it. We will go into the Mines."

With those words, the Fellowship wearily reversed their path, for the mountain had defeated them.

***.*.*.*.***

TBC

Please Review! ; )


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, nor any of the affiliated characters. I only own Cerin (my OC). Any references to the books or movie are acknowledged. Any infringement on my part is purely accidental and unintended.

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Chapter 5:

Into the Dark

***.*.*.*.***

Gandalf's reaction to Frodo's decision frightened Cerin. His expression haunted the woman, always remaining at the back of her mind. It alone made her think they should have continued on over Caradhras, anything to avoid discovering the reason behind Gandalf's worried look. At the moment, though, backtracking down the mountain safely was the first concern of hers, pushing her apprehension aside.

Everyone had taken heart once it was decided to abandon that route. Mumbles of warmer weather and hot stews came from the weary Ring Bearer perched on Cerin's back. He was wrapped tightly in one of the spare cloaks from someone's pack, his fingers holding handfuls of her own thick cloak. His garbled words reflected her desires for a warm bed and a hot meal, though she knew they would not come to pass for a long while because of the danger of lighting a fire with so many spies searching for them.

The trip down was as bad as the trek up. They were still within Saruman's fierce winter storm and the knee high snow banks. Most everyone had soaked clothing from sweat and melted snow, which did little to conserve heat. Exhaustion and hunger were felt by all. Progress was no faster in coming on their second pass on the mountain side. Fatigue made it slow going for the group, trying to reach the forests below them.

It was nightfall once they arrived at a suitable place for camp, now off the mountain and bare ground beneath their feet. They found an area at the top of a small hill; it was crowned with old, twisted trees that were surrounded by a broken circle of large boulders. The hobbits may have performed a jig if they had the energy to do so. But, no one had the energy to do anything of the sort. The Men gathered for their nightly discussion. The topic was once again their path of travel.

"Moria is not a pleasant way, and Aragorn was against it until the way over the mountain was at least tried," Gandalf said, loud enough that Cerin, and the hobbits around her, could hear him.

"If it is a worse road than the Redhorn Gate, then it must be an evil way indeed," Merry said over to the men.

"The road may lead to Moria, but how can we be sure that it will lead through Moria?" Aragorn muttered darkly.

"Yes, but the Ring must not go near Isengard, if that by any means can be prevented. The Gap of Rohan is closed to us while we go with the Bearer, Aragorn. Since our open attempt on the mountain pass our plight has become more desperate, I fear. I see now little hope, if we do not vanish from sight for a while, and cover our trail. Therefore, I think we follow Frodo's choice and that we should go neither over the mountains, nor around them, but under them. That is a road, at any rate, that the Enemy will least expect us to take," Gandalf advised.

"I do not wish to enter it, but you followed my lead almost to disaster in the snow, and have said no word of blame. I will follow your lead now – if this last warning does not move you," Aragorn told the wizard.

"The name of Moria is black, but I will go," Boromir stated.

"I, too, do not wish to go, despite what was said on Caradhras, but neither do I wish to refuse the advice of Gandalf. I will go, if that be the road chosen," Frodo said as he approached the group. Cerin followed behind the other three hobbits over to the circle of men. The discussion seemed to ask for each member's opinion.

"And we will follow Frodo," Sam said on behalf of the others of his race.

"Yes, I will follow Frodo wherever he may go, even if he goes into the dark of Moria," Cerin said with conviction.

"Then, we will travel to the Mines, if it is agreed," Gandalf questioned.

Those gathered held grim expressions from the thought of entering Moria, but nodded their assent. Gimli, though, held a smoldering look in his eyes at the prospect of seeing his homeland once again and enjoying the hospitality of the Dwarves.

"On that note, we must set out at first light, for it is nearly fifteen miles as the hawk flies to Moria, and maybe twenty as the wolf runs. We will do well to not be seen by the Enemy," Gandalf informed them. Everyone, though not happy with the prospect of moving so soon after stopping for camp, agreed.

They finished just as the last bit of light from the dusk died and the moon had started its ascent into the sky. Eventually, watch was decided and bed mats were unrolled around the very small fire that was surprisingly allowed. The customary hard bread, now a staple in their meals, was passed around. Just as some finished their meal and were settling down to rest, a piercing howl broke the silence of the night. The fellowship tensed as more howls followed the first, making a horrid song in the night.

"The wind howls with wolf-voices! The Wargs have come west of the Mountains!" Aragorn voiced.

"It is as I said. The hunt is up! Even if we live to see the dawn, who now will wish to journey south by night with the wild wolves on his trail?" Gandalf asked the Ranger.

"We would not make it this night, if the distance is truly as great as you say it is, Gandalf," Legolas said.

"Then, we must be strict in taking the wizard's advice. We cannot miss the dawn in our leaving on the morrow. The wolf that one hears is worse than the orc that one fears," Boromir added from his perch on a boulder by the fire.

"True!" Aragorn said, loosening his blade in its sheath, "But where the Warg howls, there also the orc prowls."

At the first wolf howl, the hobbits had seated themselves once again near the woman Ranger, taking comfort in her friendship.

"I should have listened to Lord Elrond, I am no good for this journey after all," Pippin said to Sam, disheartened, "These howls freeze my blood. I don't remember ever feeling so wretched."

"My heart's right down in my toes, Pippin, but we have some stout folk here with us," Sam said to him, glancing over at Cerin, "Whatever's in store for Gandalf, I'll wager it isn't in a wolf's belly."

"Pippin, when Elrond said you should not venture on this journey with us, you had no experience in wielding a blade. Now, I would not say the same. You may not be able to fell an oliphaunt, but you can hold your own. You just have yet to prove your bravery to yourself," Cerin said sincerely, "I would trust in each of you four." Pippin looked at her in thanks and moved closer to the woman.

As the night progressed, howls could be heard closer and closer to the camp. Gandalf had ordered that they put fuel on the fire, give them more light in the thick darkness. Bill the pony became antsy, and started pulling on his lead that was tied to one of the old, knotted trees in the clearing. He looked all around him, wild-eyed as gleaming eyes of the wolves appeared on the outskirts of the firelight. The fellowship stood, tensed, with weapons drawn. With a horrid growl as the only warning, one of the wolves leapt into the circle of fighters, moving for Frodo. As Cerin was moving to shield Frodo from the beast, the twang as Legolas loosed his bow and the loud thud of the animal falling dead filled the clearing. The elven arrow was pierced clean through its throat. Not seconds after it had fallen, another jumped out, flying for the Ring Bearer. The fellowship watched as the female scout sharply turned, her long hair whipping behind her, and swung her blade in a powerful downward thrust, cleanly beheading the intruder. The four hobbits stood shaking behind the woman. They all remained tense, ready for more to come, but the watching eyes quickly blinked out. Aragorn and Gandalf strode forward, but the hilltop was deserted of the Enemy. The surrounding darkness grew silent, and no cry came on the whistling wind. The two looked everywhere, but could find no trace of the felled beasts.

"It is as I feared," said Gandalf, "These were no ordinary wolves hunting for food in the wilderness. Let us keep a wary eye out this night."

The company slowly resettled around the fire, though still watchful. Some finished what was left of their interrupted meal before moving to lie down. Boromir moved, getting comfortable near the fire, preparing to take watch.

"I will take the first watch," Cerin threw out, moving to stand next to the Man.

"I can do it. This night was to be my turn for the first watch," Boromir said to her, "You should rest with the little ones, Cerin."

"No, I will take it," she said strongly before continuing in a quieter voice, "I don't believe I could sleep this night if I tried." Boromir conceded to her request and quietly went to unroll his bed mat.

She settled against the large rock Boromir had previously perched, the four hobbits scattered around her, using parts of her legs and bed roll as a pillow. Frodo was actually curled under her arm, snuggled against her torso. He still had a slight chill from the avalanche. They all were asleep as soon as they laid their heads down. Cerin pulled Frodo closer to her, enjoying his warmth as much as he enjoyed hers, and lightly wove her fingers in Pippin's hair by her leg. Deep in thought, though aware of the surrounding area, she didn't see the rugged Ranger observing the peaceful scene she made with the little ones, a small smile tugging at his lips before he rolled over to get some sleep himself.

As she gazed into the fire, Cerin thought of the recent skirmish. She had felt apprehensive when the warg howls pierced the night, just like the others had. Her thoughts circled, leading to more questions, and no answers. It was useless to think of that weird happening. Vowing to think of other things that night, she ran her fingers through Pippin's hair and snuggled Frodo even closer to her. And as the night faded into dawn's burgeoning light, Cerin kept vigil over the fellowship and her little companions.

***.*.*.*.***

"Sam, Bill cannot follow us into Moria. It is no place for a pony, no matter how noble," Aragorn tried to reason with the saddened hobbit who was morbidly patting the animal's mane, "He is a smart animal, Sam. He'll find his way back to Rivendell."

Sam looked up at Aragorn with a childlike will to believe in his eyes, desperately wanting to believe that Bill would be all right on his own. Aragorn nodded and gently pulled the lead from Sam's hands. The bridle was slowly removed with care. Now without adornment, Bill remained standing where he was, even turning to nudge the small hobbit in his chest. Sam just looked away, not willing to say goodbye to his animal friend. Aragorn backed up slightly, and gave the pony a good whack on the rump. Bill started and turned around. Aragorn gave him another whack and Bill took off back into the trees.

Sam's shoulders slumped greatly once Bill was out of sight. Cerin approached him from behind, clasping his shoulders.

"He'll be fine, Sam. He's too great an animal to fall prey to the wilds of Middle Earth."

The Fellowship was currently sat around a small lake next to a cliff face, at the entrance to the Mines of Moria. It was just about twilight when they had arrived at the door. Gandalf had read the inscription for all to hear once the moon gave enough light to expose the words. _Speak friend, and enter._ Those were the words printed on the dwarf-made door, and those were the words that had stumped ten people for many hours. Gandalf was still near the door, emitting random mumbles of long unheard languages trying to open the entrance. Most everyone had adopted relaxed positions near the wizard, figuring they would be waiting quite some time before there would be reason enough to move.

Everyone had been able to relax after their long hike to the Mines, though Cerin had felt oddly ill at ease with their location. There was a sense of doom lingering in the back of her mind. These feelings of unease only intensified when she gazed at the small lake, making her do anything around the camp to avoid thinking about and looking at the water. Cerin didn't know the purpose of these feelings, but she felt she should heed them.

Cerin was seated against a large rock near Frodo, inspecting her blade for she had all ready done anything else of possible importance. She was listening to the two younger hobbits complaining near the shore and trying not to laugh at what she heard.

"What I wouldn't give for a hot fire and a good meal! This is a plague and a nuisance to not be able to light a fire! All because of that stupid pack of crows at the ridge we haven't had a hot meal in a fortnight! We weren't even able to cook on the fire last night because of the wargs!" Pippin complained, "I look forward to when I can have a good, hot meal again."

"Yes, well you can keep looking forward to it, Master Pippin. It is too dangerous to light the fire, as well you know. The one last night was to serve as a warning only," Cerin threw over her shoulder. Merry laughed at her jest while Pippin turned and stuck his tongue out at her. Cerin looked over at him and smirked when she saw his put out face.

Pippin, seeing that he would only get sympathy from Merry, looked for something else to do. He looked towards his feet and smiled. He grabbed a good sized stone and launched it out across the water's surface. Merry soon followed with his own rock.

Cerin froze when the first splash reached her ears. She slowly put her blade back in its sheath at her feet and turned to look over towards the two troublemakers, the sense of doom resounding in her head. The woman tensed more with each stone they threw, disturbing the calm surface. She finally stumbled to her feet, drawing the curious gaze of the Ranger to her form. She quickly made her way to Merry and Pippin, gripping tightly onto their extended arms and preventing another throw from each.

"You should not disturb the water," she said, stricken, "No good can come from it, I can feel it." Her foreboding warning made the amused hobbits look at her seriously.

"Please, find something else to do," she asked them.

They nodded their assent, and slowly moved away from the water's edge. Her words reached Aragorn, making his curiosity morph into concern. He worried more as he followed her gaze to the water's surface, which was still rippling long after the last stone broke its surface. He watched as Cerin slowly moved to plop down near her blade and stare at the ground in front of her with an empty gaze.

A small while passed, only mild conversation passing between the hobbits and men. Mumbles could still be heard from Gandalf's hunched form.

"What is the elvish word for _friend_?" Frodo randomly asked.

"_Mellon_," Cerin and Aragorn said together, the woman finally coming out of her stupor. A look of dawning realization came to Gandalf's face.

"Of course! _Speak friend, and enter._ The word _friend_ is the password," he stood and approached the doors, "_Mellon_."

A great crumbling noise came from the rock face before them and tremors shook the ground under their feet at the wizard's last phrase. Small cracks appeared about nine feet high and began running outward to the sides of the starting point with another running straight down from the mid-point. The horizontal cracks curved a couple of feet outwards before they turned, traveling down for the ground. An outline of a door was now in place. Loud rumbling continued to come from the Mountain. Debris fell from the edges as, slowly, the doors inched forward from the solid rock face and outward. With a final burst of noise and movement, the doors halted, open wide before them, and the ground ceased to shake.

The company stared in wonder at the sight. A great staircase could be seen within, climbing steeply up. Beyond the lower steps, though, the darkness was deeper than night. Slowly, Gandalf approached the entrance, the others following behind him with their weapons drawn. They entered the thick blackness beyond the moonlight, making it impossible to see. A thunk was heard from the front, then light exploded around the cavern. The welcome light came from Gandalf's staff, though it illuminated a gruesome sight. Skeletons littered the bottom of the staircase and went further upwards. Black arrows protruded from all areas of the corpses; chests, limbs, even the heads. A painful death theirs must have been.

Boromir approached the nearest skeleton, ripping the arrow from its home. "Goblins! I knew this was not the road to take! We should make for Rohan; the danger lies here in the dark, not in the land of the Horse Lords!" he yelled, turning angrily to the wizard.

"Get out!" Aragorn shouted at them.

They had just turned to make their exit when a small shout came from the now front of the group.

"Help! Ah!" Frodo yelled frantically. He was suddenly ripped away from the company, suspended fifteen feet or more in the air upside down. Cerin turned and raced out of the entrance after Frodo. There, gripping the hobbit in one of many large tentacles was the Watcher, the beast that had lied in wait within the ominous lake. It was half raised out of the water, the lower portion still submerged. The other dark tentacles swirled the water around it, making a roaring, raging mass. Its head was a giant, rounded bulge with a ragged opening in the middle. Teeth protruded jaggedly from what could only be its mouth, and it was raising Frodo head first to the opening.

"Strider!" Sam called and followed Cerin, sword raised.

Cerin jumped into the swirling water just as the first twang of Legolas' bow could be heard, the arrow hitting home just off of the monster's bulbous eye. She slashed violently at the rapidly twisting arms, trying desperately to sever one. In the mess of thrashing water and battle, she missed one of the giant arms as it swung at her from behind. It crashed soundly into her chest and knocked her clean off her feet. She struggled to stand again and then kept fighting. Boromir and Gimli joined the woman in the water and in combating the arms. Frodo's frantic cries could be heard from far above their heads, while shouts from the other hobbits came from the shore. Legolas loosed arrow after arrow at the creature, several hitting vital areas. In a miraculous feat, Cerin and Gimli severed the same arm with their weapons, making Frodo suddenly drop face first into the water beside them. Boromir snatched up the shaken hobbit and turned, yelling for the others to retreat back into the Mine.

They all quickly turned tail and ran back into the Mine. The injured Watcher tried in vain to follow them, crashing into the mountainside with tentacles blindly grasping inside the entrance for its quarry. A great tremor ran through the ground and the cavern. Rocks crumbled before them, falling in on the door they had just come through. The Watcher had collapsed the entrance, plunging them into the thick darkness and blocking the only exit.

Gasping and shuddering breaths could be heard around the cavern, echoing off the walls. Jingling chain mail and the shifting of cloth accompanied the sounds of breathing. Another thunk came through the darkness, followed again by the blinding light from Gandalf's staff. This time it illuminated not only the corpses, but also the fellowship's soaked, weary, and grim forms. Boromir still carried Frodo in his arms. The other hobbits stood together near Gandalf at the fore. Aragorn and Legolas were near each other, while Gimli was next to the female scout.

Now with some semblance of calm and no immediate threats, Cerin finally felt the full force of the pain in her chest. She stumbled, grasping for the wall to steady herself. The pain in her chest was gripping, and her shortness of breath from the activity became more of an inability to breathe properly. The company turned at her gasp to see her hunched figure, struggling to remain upright.

"Are you all right, Lass?" Gimli grunted concernedly, putting a hand out to steady her. Aragorn approached her, concern radiating from his gaze.

"What's wrong?" he asked. She just shook her head negatively, not wanting to bring attention to her malady, however severe it might be.

Gandalf gazed knowingly at the woman from his position at the front of the cavern as Aragorn straightened her form from the wall. In a short time, she informed them she was fine, it was just overexertion and exhaustion. The Ranger seemed unwilling to accept it, but he knew they needed to start moving.

Cerin offered a small smile to the Man and the Dwarf as if it would prove to them that she was fine. Shortly, they both let the matter drop and she was able to focus on the hobbit in Boromir's hold.

"Are you all right, Frodo?" she asked as she looked him over, as if a fretting mother. He nodded his assent, though he pointed to his left leg.

"My leg hurts mightily, Cerin" he softly told her. She patted his head, ignoring the painful pull on her own injury, and looked back over at Aragorn imploringly.

"We cannot treat it here. We need to move. I will look at it when we stop next," he told her. The Man turned to Gandalf asking what their course of action was.

"I'll take Frodo, Boromir. I can carry him on my back," Cerin said. He just looked at her knowingly.

"I do not know if you should exert yourself so, Cerin." She just rolled her eyes at his words.

"Fine, if it will make you more comfortable, _if_and _when_I get tired, I'll let you or someone else carry him. He shouldn't walk on that leg."

"I think Boromir should carry me, though I don't like being a burden that has to be carried. You shouldn't push yourself so, not after what just happened," Frodo said softly.

Cerin wanted to be indignant at his words, but the true concern in his eyes softened the offense. She nodded to his request, turning to look at the wizard conversing with Aragorn. The two spoke of their conversation with the rest.

"We now have no choice; we must go through the Mines. It is a four day journey to the other side. We must be cautious and wary now that we know we are not alone here. The dark cloaks many dangers," Gandalf warned, his age once again apparent in his manner. He swiveled and walked onwards up the staircase, the light moving forward with him. His last words reverberated back to those behind him, leaving a bad taste in their mouths.

"We now go into the dark."

The words almost made Cerin's apprehension tangible. She was not looking forward to confronting the dark of Moria. So many things were moving, changing all at the worst times. There wasn't anything she could do but face the coming threat of the Mines, whatever lay hidden in its depths. So, she looked on at the climbing fellowship with an anxious expression, but still moved to follow them.

***.*.*.*.***

TBC

I hope you enjoy my work!

Please Review! ; )


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, nor any of the affiliated characters. I only own Cerin (my OC). Any references to the books or movie are acknowledged. Any infringement on my part is purely accidental and unintended.

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Chapter 6:

Grief Consumes Thee

***.*.*.*.***

Onwards they traveled, deep into Moria. Staircase after staircase they went down only to go upwards again hours later. Monstrous masses, these stairs were. They seemed to never end, especially for the hobbits. They stretched on and on, past the boundary of light from Gandalf's staff. There were no rails to prevent them from falling over the sides into the thick darkness. There was an occasional stumbling by one person or another, but they were caught by the person wearily trailing behind them in line.

It was disconcerting to only know what could be seen in their small circle of light. They were all on edge for they knew that an attack could come from anywhere in the thick darkness beyond. The faintest of sounds sent heads twisting, searching for the source, and knuckles to tighten on the hilts of their blades. The emotional strain of the constant paranoia only exhausted them more.

Finally, the fellowship came to a small, level area. With this reprieve from the hours of stair climbing and descending, it was decided to stop for a few hours rest. The hobbits wearily collapsed near each other, looking the worse for wear. Boromir gently set Frodo down by the other three and Cerin before plopping down against a large rock a few feet away. Legolas stood watch at the edge of their little plateau while Gandalf perched on a lumpy boulder near the Gondorian. Now that they had stopped, Aragorn was able to examine Frodo's leg. The Man gently took the hobbit's leg and slowly rotated the foot at the ankle. After a few winces from the small patient, Aragorn gave his diagnosis.

"It is sprained. I will have to splint it. You shouldn't put much weight on it for a few days or it will get worse." Frodo nodded his understanding, and Aragorn went and retrieved whatever he could find to make Frodo a crude splint.

Some way-bread was given to those who wanted it, though the bland taste made the meal less than remarkable. The hobbits quickly dropped into slumber, trying to rest while they were able. The others greatly wished to do the same, weariness cloaking their features. Aragorn took the first watch, going to sit where Legolas had stood guard, while the remaining members fell into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.

***.*.*.*.***

_Cerin found herself enshrouded in heavy darkness, incapable of discerning anything against the inky blackness. The very air around her felt oppressive._

"_I can give you what you desire. Everything you wish to possess can be yours. Power will be your reward. Power over simpletons, lesser races. The power to rule!"____a dark voice suddenly spoke._

_The low, velvety tone washed imploringly over Cerin, promising the unimaginable. She spun around searching for the source of the voice, but she could see no such being._

_"And those you care for will love you more because of your power. Take the Ring, girl, and receive your heart's desires,"____the voice continued._

_Cerin turned again, looking all around her. Finally, she spotted something amongst the black. A glint appeared in the distance, then another, though closer this time. She watched, curious. Slowly, the object approached, getting bigger in her view. Now it was only a small distance from her, glowing brightly the color of fire. In the center of the enlarging inferno was a golden circle, spinning end over end towards her._

"_All will be yours to have. You must only take the Ring. Take the Ring from the bearer. Wield it! Wield its power and join me!"____the voice urged, its volume now roaring in her ears._

_With those words, the flames exploded outwards around her. She ceased to hear the voice and heard only her blood roaring in her ears. The spinning golden circle flew to her outstretched hand and slid slowly onto her finger. Once it stopped on her hand, the fire blazed brilliantly outwards again and an image of a great eye appeared within, staring straight into her mesmerized gaze._

***.*.*.*.***

A small gasp escaped her lips as she came awake, remembering her dream.

'_A dream? Was it truly a dream or could it be my future?'_she wondered, unsettled.

Her mind was roaring with thoughts like the waters of the Andúin when it's summoned from its peaceful flow to the raging rapids. Sleep would not visit her again this night.

'_Night? One could not possibly tell if it were truly nighttime in this darkness. Down here I would think it was always night.'_

She looked around the still camp, seeing only slumbering forms under worn travel cloaks, their chests rising and falling with each breath. Then, at the edge of the small camp she spied the Ranger, sitting erect and staring out into the dark. Moving slowly and careful of her injury, she sat up and walked quietly over to the Man. He heard her approach and turned to look at her as she sat next to him, hiding a wince.

"You should be asleep," he says softly.

"I could not sleep again even if I desired. Something is unsettling about this place," she says just as softly, not telling him the entire reason for why she was awake. She turned her head and glanced back at the slumbering hobbits, a small, fond smile flitted across her face when she saw Pippin had thrown an arm around Merry in his sleep.

'_It will be amusing to see them when they wake up,'_she thought amusedly.

"You are attached to them," Aragorn pointed out obviously.

"Yes, they have become like brothers to me. I love their playful innocence and joy for life, even on a journey such as this. They bring light to my day, and I love them for it," she said softly, and turned the same fond smile on the Ranger beside her.

At her mention of love, a pained look entered his eyes and his features. He shifted to gaze forward again, away from her happy face. Despite their tentative relationship, she asked the question that had lingered in her mind since they had left Rivendell.

"I have something to ask of you, if you do not mind me doing so," she spoke tentatively.

At his nod to continue, she spoke of her thoughts, "I sometimes see pain in your gaze, like I do now. I do not claim to know you well, Aragorn, but I will do the same for you as I do for the hobbits and lend an ear should you need it."

"I'd think you would know the reason from Arwen."

"We are not as close as the adoptive familial title suggests," she responded wryly, now gazing outwards also, "We are different, her and I."

"How so, Lady?"

"I will only say that we differed greatly in our opinions on how a proper woman should behave. Arwen Evenstar is the very definition of ladylike and exudes femininity, whereas I obviously do not," Cerin said a little snidely and gestured to her rumpled and worn breeches.

Aragorn shifted in place and his hand moved towards his neck, but quickly rested it back on his knee. His action pulled her eyes to his collar. What she saw made her surprised. Around his neck hung the elven symbol of immortality.

"That is not a gift easily given," she said slowly, questioningly, before her eyes widened in realization, "You and Arwen are in love. I should not have spoken badly of her, for that I am sorry."

"No, what you said of her is true, and yes we were in love, but no more. She is to sail across the sea to the Undying Lands with her people and family. I would not have her forsake that fate on my behalf. She agreed at Elrond's and my urging, but she refused to take her gift back," he said hollowly, the painful expression deepening.

"I knew of Elrond's plans to leave and his wishes for his children to accompany him. I said my farewells to him and Imladris before we embarked on this journey. At the time, I was not aware of yours and Arwen's attachment," she said quietly, "You faced a greater heartbreak at our departure than I."

"I have not yet let her go in my heart, though I must. In time she will only be a fond memory."

"Ah, time. What a fickle companion, Time is. It seems I'm cursed to associate with those who have either too little time or those who have too much here on Middle earth," Cerin spoke self-deprecatingly and mostly to herself. After a moment, Aragorn spoke, slightly changing the subject.

"I have often wondered how you came to be in Elrond's care. I have also questioned how we had never met before the Council, as I am also considered family to Elrond," he shifted then to look at her, awaiting her answer. She was slow in her response, looking apprehensive and aggrieved. Pain seeped into her eyes, recalling the circumstances.

"My family was peasants, living in Gondor but away from the grandeur of Minas Tirith. My older brother Túrin and I were young when our parents died of an illness. It had swept through the village and most of Gondor eventually. Túrin almost didn't make it. We were alone, so we left to hopefully find other family, but in four years we found no one. We had wandered far from home in that time; far from Gondor. I was fourteen summers old when we came across the Andúin, and also came into the path of Elladan and Ellohir. They sympathized and brought us into Imladris. Elrond hired us as servants, probably me for a washer maid, but I guess our antics made a place in his heart for us. Apparently, it wasn't the first time he'd adopted a mortal," she said sarcastically, "I guess he was lonely, maybe? His children, even you I'm guessing, had left to seek their fortune in the world or were grown." Aragorn only nodded to agree, for he was that mortal and he had left the elven realm.

She paused here, looking more pained.

"I was sixteen summers when Túrin died on his first mission with the Imladris guard from an orc raid. I had been set to join later on, but I declined the position after his death. I learned how to scout and the ways of battle before leaving to travel. I still do the occasional mission for Elrond here and there, though going to Isengard had been the first for a long while," she finished, looking contemplative.

"I am sorry for the loss of your family. I have had similar losses," he said softly, "Elrond seems to favor orphaned mortals." Cerin snorted, amused.

She turned to him with a grin, "It would seem so."

And so, they talked late into the watch. Random stories of battle experiences, techniques, Imladris, travels, and their elven family were exchanged until it was time to rouse the Elf-Prince for his shift. Cerin was able to get some kind of rest after she retired, having been suitably distracted by talking with Aragorn.

They remembered much that night, both painful and happy. They had shared important information about their lives with each other. They were not suddenly the best of friends, nor did Cerin have that expectation, but she felt connected to the Man now. He was accepted in the same family as she and they both had hardships in love, be them familial ties or partner. Her nightmare had led to the beginning of their tentative friendship; one that she hoped would grow.

Not that much later were they having to wake and move on. Again they were confronted with stairs of massive height. It disheartened the tired hobbits. Frodo was the weariest of their travel for he felt like a burden, having to be passed around for others to carry him. Cerin believed they would not be their normal, lively selves until they exited the mines. They had only been moving for a couple hours before they reached a fork in the caverns. Three different paths lay before them, and Gandalf could not recall the way. Now, he was simply trying to remember the correct cave.

Cerin sat near the four hobbits, as usual, and trying to rest wound. She thought she had a few bruised ribs, broken at the worst. Aragorn took that time to look at Frodo's leg.

"Well, the splint is holding up nicely. You should be able to put some weight on it soon, but we don't want to make it worse," he told his patient.

Frodo nodded before turning his gaze out, over the edge of the platform and down the stairs they had climbed. Cerin followed him, seeing a shadow slowly move on the path. She vaguely heard Aragorn say he was going to check their supplies and move away from them, but she was too worried about what she was looking at in the distance. She felt apprehensive as she watched the figure creep about. She looked over and saw Frodo looking at her, concerned.

"Did you see it too?" he asked quietly. She nodded and turned to look back where she saw the shadow.

"I'll tell Gandalf," she spoke, moving gingerly towards the secluded wizard.

Slowly, she sat next to Gandalf, looking at the available three paths in front of them. She did not want to interrupt his thinking, so she waited for him to acknowledge her first.

"What concerns you, Cerin?" he suddenly spoke.

"In the distance, there is a shadow trailing our company. I worry it is not with friendly eyes it looks upon us," she said, showing her apprehension in her face and words.

"That is Gollum, a former bearer of the One Ring. Smeagol was his name before the Ring corrupted his mind, and later his body as his life was prolonged. Now he is a fraction of a being, drawn to the power of the Ring and wanting it for his own again. The last anyone knew he had been captured by the Enemy, tortured for news. He must have escaped their clutches," he informed, smoking from his pipe, "I've known of him following us for some time."

"Escaped? Or set free?" Cerin asked shrewdly. He did not answer her, just continued to smoke on his pipe and staring out at the three forking caves. Believing the wizard had returned to his thoughts, she made to leave.

"Cerin, know that darkness cannot penetrate a mind filled with light, with a purpose, when one's determined," he said cryptically as she left. She turned back at his words, questioning, but he offered no more. Cerin walked slowly back over to the chatting hobbits, considering the cryptic words. She had yet to sit down before Gandalf made a sudden exclamation.

"Ah, it's this way!"

"So you remembered?" Pippin asked hopefully, perking up like a dog waiting for a reward.

"No, but this way doesn't smell quite so foul," Gandalf said unexpectedly, "When in doubt, follow your nose, Master Pippin." With that, the wizard took off at a gamely pace on into the more pleasant cave.

Frodo turned to look at Cerin, questioning the unorthodox method of determining their direction. Cerin could only look back at the confused hobbit, being dumbfounded herself, but following the retreating figure nonetheless.

On they went, their detour over. Over an hour later they entered a great room. They could not see the size, but the air didn't feel so heavy, so stagnant in the usual confined space.

"I believe we can risk a little more light," Gandalf quietly added. The clunk of his staff hitting against the ground was followed by a burst of brighter light, expanding their view and revealing their surroundings a little more.

"Ain't that somethin'," Sam uttered from Frodo's side.

His words reflected the awe of the fellowship as they took in the gigantic room. They couldn't rightly see the ceiling of the great cavern but it was of obvious height. On it stretched, in all directions, with massive rows of carved stone columns running parallel along the walls. Oh what it must have looked like in its full splendor, at the height of the Dwarf kingdom's success.

"This is amazing," Cerin said in awe, gazing all around her. Similar mutterings came from most of the others. "This scale of craftsmanship is nothing like what I had imagined."

"Aye, lass, this be the magnificence of the Dwarves. How I wish the others were here to show you a true dwarven welcome!" Gimli said, puffing up with pride and sadness for his people.

"Is that a light over there?" Frodo asked out loud. His question draws their attention, looking over to where he directed. Gimli gave a sudden cry at the sight.

The Dwarf took off running towards the light on the far side of the room, ignoring the yells for him to halt echoing behind him. The company raced after him when he kept moving. The sliver of light grew as Gimli pushed against the two monstrous doors, forcing them open. He disappeared inside the room. His aggrieved cries reached their ears before they passed into the room, but once they entered they saw the reason for the gruff member's grief.

There in a tiny shaft of the precious light, coming from a small, square window high above them, lay a grand stone tomb. Gimli had collapsed in front of the monolith and was crying into his arms. Cerin slowly moved further into the room, her heart sinking as she took in the sight of her companion. She moved forward to stand beside Gimli and placed a consoling hand on his shoulder. Gandalf approached the tomb and read the engraving out loud for them to hear.

"Here lies Balin…," he said slowly and with sadness, "I had hoped it would not be true, my friend." The wizard turned to a large book clutched in the hands of the remains of a fallen Dwarf and began to read. Cerin did not hear his words, lost in memories of her own grief.

***.*.*.*.***

"_NO! It's not true. It's not true, Elrond. You're lying!" she said vehemently, pleadingly to the saddened Elf-Lord that was embracing her. Then, in a quieter, more broken voice she continued, "Please, tell me you're lying."_

"_I'm afraid what I say is not a falsehood, Angulcóe. Túrin did not return. Many did not return home," he spoke into her tangled auburn waves. "They were ambushed and outnumbered."_

"_It can't be. He was the only one I had left. What next? What else must I have taken from me?" she uttered, looking without seeing into Elrond's chest._

"_You have me, dear child," he offered. There wasn't much he could offer her that could even begin to stem the hurt this loss caused her, so he simply hugged her. Time was a balm for all wounds, and it would heal this one as well._

_She barely nodded at his words. She could only think that this shouldn't have happened, not to her brother. He had trained, hard and long hours, and he was prepared. Yet, once again, fate was against her family and placed a fatal challenge directly in her brother's path. Yes, she still had Elrond, but now she was without any true family in this world. Her brother had been her support, her crutch in her grief after losing their parents. Now she had lost that last piece to her old life. She would need to learn to walk on her own, it seemed._

'How much more can my heart take? How much more must I lose?' _she wondered sadly, later, while looking out at the small headstone erected for her brother._ _Truly, she didn't possess much more that could be lost. She had no true familial ties left, no fortune or notoriety to her name. She did, however, have a painful past and a score of losses._

_As Elrond had said, time was a balm for all wounds. She would hurt less with the passage of time, but she had to occupy herself until that time came. At heart, she was determined and ambitious, so she had no plan to let herself waste away until her end. No, she would train and learn as much about the world as she could. She would do all she could to be able to protect herself from the vermin that had killed her brother._

***.*.*.*.***

"We cannot get out. Escape is impossible," Gandalf finished grimly, closing a weathered tome that had to have grabbed at some point with a thump.

Cerin blinked, her attention once again on the room. Her hand moved from Gimli's shoulder to the hilt of her blade, seeking something solid after remembering like she had. The heavy silence was broken by a resounding clang, the noise filling the room. All turned towards the source. Pippin stood near a stone heap that might have been a crumbled well, looking the guiltiest Cerin had ever seen him. Down the object fell. What it was, Cerin did not know. Bang after bang rang out as it knocked against the walls on the way down.

"You fool! Do us all a favor and throw yourself down next time!" Gandalf yelled furiously at the cowering hobbit, standing imperiously over him. Finally, silence covered the room again, but Cerin's mind exploded in sound.

DOOM!

DOOM!

DOOM!

Her breathing quickened. She turned slowly to gaze out the open doors. Legolas and Aragorn saw movement at the edge of their vision and looked over to follow her gaze. Not a second later a low beat rose from the din. Drums pounded, the beat quickened and grew louder. Their hearts pumped faster, racing with the drums. Boromir whipped his head around and saw a faint blue glow coming from the edge of Frodo's sheath, near the hilt of the blade.

"Orcs!" he yelled out in warning.

His words spurred them into action. Boromir, Aragorn, and Legolas raced over to the wide open doorway, trying to pull the doors closed and bar it. Cerin moved backward to Gandalf and the huddled hobbits. Her hand tightened on her hilt and she reached back to adjust her bow to a quicker reach position on her back.

"Remember what you learned," Cerin told them strongly. The first arrow whizzed through the shrinking gap in the doorway and sailed over Boromir's shoulder.

The Gondorian turned and yelled sarcastically, "Great, they have a troll!"

Gimli hopped atop the great stone tomb of his brethren and brandished his mighty axe, "Let them come! They will fall as long as one Dwarf still draws breath!"

Arrows streaked over the men, and started imbedding deeply in the thick wood as they finally managed to close the doors and barred the doorway. Everyone tensed as the first bang on the door echoed around them. Cerin struggled to gasp for air with the tightness in her chest and control herself enough to face the battle waiting outside the chamber.

'_I need to overcome this! I will not let this wound fell me! I can't let it distract me! I must ignore it,'_she thought determinedly.

With one last immense bang, the drums reached a crescendo in their rhythm and the doors gave way. Splinters sprayed inwards, becoming flying darts without aim. Before the splintered remains of the wood landed, the first barrage of orcs and goblins flooded into the room. Legolas' bow was singing. Clangs of metal hitting metal and the sounds of tearing flesh filled their ears. Like a wave, the blackened creatures washed past the men and moved towards the others at the back of the room.

Cerin immediately pushed the uncomfortable feelings from the fore of her mind and drew her blade. Gimli leapt from his perch and swiftly beheaded his first foe. Cerin couldn't hold every enemy from reaching the hobbits behind her, so all four were soon drawn into their own battles. Each one was engaged, cutting down orcs and moving to the next.

Suddenly, the orcs near the door parted. Loud stomps were heard and the ground shook under their feet. A great, ugly beast broke into the chamber. It was several times the height of a Man. The sickly gray color of its thick hide didn't mask the obvious strength in its club sized arms and legs. It gazed wild-eyed around at the chaos. A loud roar came from the beast as it was yanked backwards by the chain attached to the monstrous black collar around its neck. Slack was given and the troll lurched forward further into the madness.

Cerin quickly slashed at the orc in front of her before turning quickly to try to spot the hobbits. She saw Sam and Pip fighting off an orc together. Merry was a little ways away doing the same. They appeared to be fairing well.

"Where's Frodo?" she mumbled frantically, eyes sweeping the area for the Ring Bearer.

Finally, she spotted him as he dashed behind a square stone column with the troll at his heels. The beast had obviously zeroed in on his prize immediately, the power of the Ring called to it like a beacon amidst the storm. As the dangerous game of hide and seek played out before her, Cerin started to fight her way towards the hiding hobbit.

"Aragorn, look! The troll's after Frodo!" she shouted over to the Ranger.

Her warning was heard by most of the fellowship. Some shifted their focus onto the large monster. Legolas fired arrow after arrow, aiming for vital areas like the face and eyes. One struck the left eye and it let out a horrible roar of pain. It began to swing madly with its clubbed arms. One struck the column Frodo had just been hiding behind, but the hobbit was now running for another. The troll was enraged and wanted its prize. It returned to search for Frodo. More orcs poured in, swamping the company and slowing them from reaching Frodo.

Out of the cacophony, a tense silence fell. All fighting paused and a loud gasp filled their ears. They all turned and saw Frodo fall backwards, looking pained and the troll above him holding a massive metal spear.

"No!" came the anguished cries.

Anger filled them and they continued with renewed force. Merry and Pippin launched themselves at the troll from the tall ledge. They landed atop the beast, stabbing whatever they could reach. It turned back and forth trying to grasp the offenders. The massive black chain on its neck lashed behind it like a whip. Legolas suddenly grabbed the passing chain and swung up in an arc to land atop its head. The elf fired three arrows point blank into the troll's head. It gave a great shudder and slightly swayed. Its eyes rolled back and it went limp, shaking the earth as its dead form collapsed. Seeing their weapon fall, some of the orcs left alive turned and fled. The fellowship fought hard to eliminate the remaining foes.

With a final thrust into the orc in front of her, Cerin turned and ran to Frodo. Most of her comrades were already gathered around his prostrate form. Cerin's shoulders slumped as she gave in to the feeling of defeat. Aragorn went to lift the hobbit, his face a mask of grief. Just as his hand neared the limp form, Frodo heaved a great gasp and gazed wildly at the surprised faces around him.

"You should be dead. No mortal could survive that blow," Aragorn whispered, amazed.

Frodo slowly, painfully moved aside his tunic and revealed the shirt of mithril underneath it. Gasps came from some upon recognizing what he wore.

"That be a kingly gift, lad," Gimli said breathily.

"Well, however great it may be, I am still injured," Frodo said wryly.

Cerin snorted in amusement, '_He_would_survive a death blow and skip feeling grateful to complain about being in pain.'_Gimli was not so amused and grunted, offended by the words.

"We need to leave," Gandalf broke in urgently, "Quickly, to the Bridge of Khazaddûm!"

With that, Aragorn lifted Frodo and turned to run with the others. They left the room and reentered the large cavern. They ran a great distance at a tough pace for they were still being hunted. Shadows, darker than the usual gloom, could be seen all around them. Cerin looked to the sides as she ran. The darkness swirled and twisted at the edges of the white light from Gandalf's staff, seeming to close in on them as they ran. Soon, black forms surrounded them, forcing them to halt as noise filled the great room. They inched forward, the light reflected on their extended crude blades.

The pain couldn't be ignored anymore. Cerin's mind no longer recognized the swarm of orcs before her but was now consumed with intense agony. Eyes swiveled as a loud gasp sounded. Cerin stumbled, holding her chest. Her breaths became shallower, more like gasping for air. Boromir, who stood next to the woman, reached out for her as she titled forward. The orcs moved closer, seeing the fighters distracted. Just as Cerin steadied her doubled over form, fighting the horrible pain constricting her chest, the loud rhythmic drumming stopped and a monstrous roar overshadowed the noise of the orcs. At the sound of the roar, the orcs fell silent and looked apprehensive, fidgeting. Another roar rang out and the swarm turned sharply where they stood and fled from the company into the darkness, leaving the fellowship standing confused with their weapons ready. Boromir hefted Cerin up into his arms, ignoring the protests she gave between sharp gasps. He could not allow her to fall behind.

"What was that?" Pippin asked, trembling.

"What's wrong with Cerin?" Frodo whispered.

"A balrog. It is a foe beyond you all," Gandalf said gravely, "We cannot help her while this beast hunts us. We must reach the bridge, our freedom lies beyond it."

The path was now clear as they ran. Their pace quickened as each roar echoed around them. Coming around the final curve, there stretched out across a bottomless chasm was a thin strip of stone. It could only be the bridge, and the exit lay past it. With little hesitation, the company raced across, forcing themselves to not look down into the dark depths below. Just as Gandalf, now at the rear of the party, ambled to the other side the loudest roar rose to meet them. The first few that had crossed had continued running, moving onwards to the exit. But, the second half had slowed, turning to make sure all had gotten across. As Boromir, holding Cerin, and Aragorn watched Gandalf come towards them, Legolas stood near the wall keeping guard for wayward attacks. The wizard made a shooing motion with his hand to encourage the motionless Men forward, almost at the end of the stone crossing.

Out of the dark below the wizard rose a flaming mass, red hot inferno swirling around its body. Evil radiated from its form, its intentions clear.

"Gandalf!" Aragorn yelled, pointing over the bridge.

The wizard whipped around on the bridge, facing the creature. His face fell, looking grimly determined. Raising his staff high above him, Gandalf cried out. A massive flash of light illuminated the area and blinded the beast. It stumbled back from the raw power emitting from the Istari, tipping over the side of the thin bridge. Gandalf turned to run to the Men, thinking the foe distracted, but not defeated.

"Run, you fools! Fly!"

Just like the balrog had first revealed itself from the inky blackness, a flaming whip rose from behind the running figure. In a flash, the flame whipped through the air and wrapped tightly around the wizard, yanking him sideways and down into the bottomless depths. The white light of the staff becoming dimmer as it fell, clutched in the old Istari's hold. Gandalf had disappeared from view, gone before their eyes.

"No!" Aragorn yelled, moving towards the edge. He heard a strangled shout come from Cerin.

"We must leave! It is not safe here!" Legolas shouted from his watch at the exit.

Slowly, Aragorn turned and followed Boromir, running away from the chasm. Onwards they ran. Finally, they reached the exit, sunlight blinding them. Tears of pain from the light and of sadness fell from their eyes. The Men blinked rapidly, trying to clear their vision. Slowly, they adjusted and looked about them. Gimli was slumped on a boulder a little ways away. Frodo, Merry, Pippin, and Sam looked to have collapsed and were trying to catch their breath.

"Where's Gandalf?" Pippin asked from his prone position.

Aragorn gazed upon the hobbit, his face filled with grief. "He fell."

"What?" Frodo gasped.

"The balrog defeated him," he explained.

Everyone fell silent, attempting to understand the loss. The hobbits immediately broke into tears, grasping one another for some kind of comfort. Gimli slumped further. Legolas and Boromir had expressions similar to Aragorn. Saying the words confirmed the loss within their hearts. A shallow breath caught the Gondorian's attention. He looked down at the form in his arms and saw the small rise and fall of her chest, her breathing painful. Her face was washed of all color and pulled into a painful grimace. Cerin's eyes were welled with tears, from pain of her injury or from grief he did not know.

"We need to leave. Cerin needs medical attention but the orcs will be swarming in but a few hours. We cannot stay near here," Boromir spoke to the Ranger and looked concernedly down at the woman. Aragorn gazed at Cerin, not knowing what could be wrong with her but knowing the truth in the Man's words. They needed to keep moving.

"Get up. We must keep moving. The orcs will be on our trail soon. It is not safe to linger," Aragorn commanded.

With tears still trailing down their cheeks, the hobbits slowly stood. They looked numb to their surroundings. Gimli grunted and stood, not happy by any means. Aragorn looked around and then set off, now leading the group in Gandalf's absence.

"We make for Lothlorien," He called back as he started a slow run, "The Lady will be able to help Cerin and the woods will offer us shelter." Worry for the woman filled him and mixed with his heavy grief. They needed to reach the Wood soon if she was going to have any chance to overcome whatever was ailing her.

***.*.*.*.***

TBC

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	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, nor any of the affiliated characters. I only own Cerin (my OC). Any references to the books or movie are acknowledged. Any infringement on my part is purely accidental and unintended.

***.*.*.*.***

Chapter 7:

Salvation For Some

***.*.*.*.***

And so on they ran. They ran for salvation, a saving grace for their grief-laddened hearts and for their concern over Cerin. They moved mechanically, only the need to put distance behind them and the shallow gasps from the form on Legolas' back driving them. Boromir had grown weary after carrying Cerin for a long while and thankfully passed her to the willing Elf-Prince. It seemed hours before the vast green outline of the Wood loomed on the horizon. The closer their path came to the Wood, the more vibrant the lush green and gold colors of the broad, sheltering leaves became. Hope renewed within their hearts at the sight.

Standing at the edge of the mass of tall trees, there was only a slight pause from some of the members of the company before they continued behind Aragorn into the shaded depths. They trekked further; a calming silence fell around them, though some took the silence as eerie. Gimli could be heard near the end of the line of travelers voicing his fake votes of confidence.

In the space of one step to the next, the company was surrounded by green clad figures. They cut a stunning picture for those observing. They had tall, lean forms with their long, wheat colored hair pulled back by the customary elven braids. Their pointed ears were visible to all. Finally, it seemed everyone had noticed the drawn bows directed at their hearts and the glaring eyes. Cerin turned her head from Legolas' shoulder and took in the elves. Despite the pain, she bid Legolas to let her stand on her own. He did so reluctantly, keeping a steadying hand on her arm.

"You are not welcome here, strangers," the regal looking elf at the fore stated seriously before turning to gaze at Frodo, "That trinket you carry is evil in solid form. You bring darkness with you, little one. It will not enter the Golden Wood." Aragorn stepped forward to address the elf.

"So you know of our quest? Then you must know of our mission and its importance to Middle earth. Please, Haldir, my friend, I beseech you to allow us entrance to your Lady's realm. We have suffered much and would benefit from the benevolence of your people."

Haldir looked troubled by the Ranger's words but ordered the others to lower their bows. "Estel, I must think of my people. I cannot permit such danger to travel so close to the City. It is my duty." Aragorn's face fell at his words. Frodo approached Haldir, wanting to argue for their entrance and for help for the woman he thought of as a sister.

"Please, I ask you to let us travel to your City. Our companion is gravely hurt. If it is me that is preventing you from allowing the company from going forward, then let me stay here at the border while they go with you to the City. She needs the healing talents of the elves."

The worried hobbit gestured towards Legolas by a now standing Cerin. Haldir looked over at the form next to the Prince, his face flashing with sudden shock. He quickly strode over to the slightly bent woman who simply smiled at him as he neared. He clasped her shoulders in greeting. Worry overcame his happiness at their meeting and shone in his gaze as he took in her form.

"Angulcóe," Haldir greeted, "Why am I always finding you injured, my friend? What's wrong with you this time? Not another poisoned arrow, I hope." Cerin was amused at the looks of horror that crossed the hobbits' faces at the mention of her previous injuries. She also saw looks of interest on the others' faces.

"It wasn't exactly a respite for me either, Haldir. Now stop the storytelling – you're scaring the little ones," she gasped out slowly, unable to draw a full breath, "I think it's just bruised ribs, but they could be broken. There has not been the time for Aragorn to look at it. We are seeking the healing talents your people are renowned for and the safety of Caras Galadhon. I would love nothing more than to bask in the city's beauty once again, but if we are not allowed entrance, tell us plainly now for we will seek shelter elsewhere. We are exhausted, but we will leave the Wood." Cerin slumped over further after she finished speaking and an arm rose to clutch painfully to her side. She tried not to let her face show how weary she truly was.

"Caras Galadhon would be better for your presence, I think," he paused, appearing thoughtful, before saying loudly for the others to hear, "The Lady has granted your company entrance and your wishes for shelter." Turning back to Cerin, his lips quirked the tiniest bit. "Maybe now you could take the bath you desperately need, my dragon," he teased as he took in her frizzing braids and brushed a tangled auburn strand away from her face.

Cerin scowled at the jibe and straightened, intending to inform him that he had obviously been on patrol for a while if his smell was anything to go by, when her ribs tensed and she grimaced. The teasing glint left Haldir's eyes when he spied her pain.

"Come, you are hurting and it is still a good distance to the city. We will leave now and get you aid, my friend." With that he turned and motioned to the gathered patrol to head out before quickly striding off into the thicket, believing all would follow in his stead.

Legolas kneeled, waiting for Cerin to climb on his back once he saw her make no movement forward. She slowly, tenderly, got on his back while avoiding his quiver. She clasped her arms around Legolas' shoulders, and once secure, he began to follow the others into the thicket.

"I think Haldir was right in his belief that you should bathe," Legolas said lightly.

Cerin was surprised to hear him teasing her for he had not done so before now. So, she was correct in her thoughts that he would come around eventually. She smiled, and then sighed tiredly and placed her head on the Elf Prince's shoulder the best she could.

"Oh, quiet you. It is not polite to tell a Lady that she smells, you know, even if it is true. I would have thought as a prince you'd be graced with better manners than that," she teased.

"Manners do not excuse your smell, my Lady," he laughed. Cerin simply gave a long-suffering sigh.

"I believe it is my fate to be mocked in my time of injury," she grumbled. She just knew the elf was smiling at her expense.

Legolas had moved to the front of the line to hike next to the March Warden, his stride seeming unhindered by fatigue. Deeper into the canopy they went, following an almost nonsensical path towards Caras Galadhon. They were surrounded by Nature's beauty yet saw none of it through their grief and weariness.

After an eternity they reached the city gates. The masses of beautifully crafted metal opened without pause for the company. Calming music met their ears, both pointed and round, but the effect was lost on the group. They entered a small, formal courtyard where they stopped. From the landing of a small staircase came an ethereal elleth. Her walk was quick but still with the envied grace and poise of her race. She came to a stop at the foot of the stairs, looking out at those gathered.

"There are nine before me, yet one is missing from your number. Where is Gandalf?" she asked softly. Their faces fell in grief and sadness at her words while she looked on with a somber knowledge in her expression.

"He fell. The balrog defeated him, Lady," Cerin said lowly, speaking from her place on Legolas' back. Galadriel spied her form and smiled slightly before her face fell.

"My dragon, I wish you could have returned here at a time not so dark. Now, I believe you are in need of tending and rest," the Lady intoned softly, reassuring. Cerin seemed to sag more from tiredness at the promise in the elleth's words.

"I think introductions can be held for a later time. You are weary from your journey, in both heart and body. Please, rest. Find peace in my realm from your troubles." Haldir turned from his stance and gestured to the men.

"Come, I will show you to where you can rest and find refreshment." The hobbits and dwarf immediately moved after the March Warden, leaving the two Men and the Elf-Prince.

"Legolas, could you please bring Cerin and follow me. I would like to see her to a warm bed and clean attire," Lady Galadriel asked.

Cerin could feel the elf smiling and cut him off before he could say anything. "Don't say a word, Legolas." He simply chuckled at her gruff admonishment. He made to move forward towards the Lady when Aragorn gripped the Elf's shoulder, halting his motions.

"Legolas, I will take Cerin to her quarters. Go with Boromir to the camp and find comfort in the forest," he said quietly.

The Elf didn't object, happy to be near the serenity of nature and clouded by his grief from Gandalf's loss. Boromir simply turned and followed the path he knew the hobbits had taken, Legolas treading silently behind him. Aragorn waited for Cerin to secure herself atop his back before he made to go forward. The Lady nodded to him and turned swiftly down an opposite path from the one leading to the company's camp.

A short while later, they came to the healer's quarters and entered a bright, warm room. The warm glow of the forest streamed in through the large window, basking the large bed in its light. A light breeze blew into the room, gently ruffling the gauzy curtains. The Ranger approached the bed and deposited his charge onto the covers, listening to the low hiss she let out at the movement. She clutched her ribs while fruitlessly trying to find a comfortable position. He stepped back, observing the blood-spattered woman before him and unaware of the knowing gaze of the elleth near him.

The healer arrived shortly after they reached the room. The elf was unknown to Aragorn, but he was quickly bustling around the woman and tsking at her injuries. He listened as the elf chided her for having to be treated at least once every time she visited the Wood and as Cerin jokingly apologized that he actually had to do his job once in a while. The Lady led Aragorn out of the room, leaving the healer to his duties and promising to visit the woman. As the door shut, he heard Cerin tell them not to worry because she'd be here in this prison of a healing ward. The healer told her it could very well be a prison with the number of times she's tried to escape.

"You are worried for her," Galadriel said to him, breaking his thoughts from the recovering patient and her humorous exchange with the healer.

"Well, yes, this is a serious wound, though I am not so worried now that she has been tended to. If we had been denied entry and forced to continue onwards, I fear it would have gotten worse and not heal properly with the strain of travel," Aragorn confided.

"Aye, I believe you are right, however, you are now within the city and its safety. I can tell that you are weary and heavy-hearted. Perhaps you should join your company and find solace in rest. Go, she will be fine," Galadriel ordered kindly. Aragorn hesitated, wanting to know her prognosis, but could delay his exhaustion no longer.

Once the man was away, Galadriel was left alone with her thoughts. Among other things, she contemplated the injured woman in her care.

"_My child, it is unfortunate that our reunion must be clouded by these grave circumstances. It would seem that you have been presented with another challenge to overcome, one that may pull your past and lineage to the fore. I pray that you succeed_," she thought, sadness evident in her expression.

***.*.*.*.***

Slowly, striking blue eyes blinked open. The comforting rays of sunlight streaming through the window warmed her face. She turned her head to gaze about the surroundings, taking in the familiar healing ward. She had given in to her exhaustion shortly after Ardan had finished looking her over. She guessed that she had slept through the night from the dim early light. Shortly, her gaze fell on the sitting form of the March Warden, his gaze friendly as he looked upon her.

"Haldir," she greeted with a smile, "I don't recall telling you how much I missed you yesterday, my friend."

"I have missed you as well, Angulcóe," he said warmly as he stood and perched on the edge of the bed beside her.

"I have not had a chance to bathe yet as you so _kindly_ suggested, so please refrain from making any inane comments about my smell or undoubtedly travel-worn appearance. Though from my place over here I can smell that unlike me, you did have an opportunity to wash," she teased with a grin. Haldir mirrored the scowl she had made the day before at his similar words. He chose to ignore her words.

"You sleep like the dead, woman. I have been here for more than an hour, yet you were completely unaware of the world around you."

"Please forgive me for savoring a good night's rest in a comfy bed for the first time in months. Oh, and forgive me for making you wait around while I did so," she said wryly to the self-important elf.

"As you should be, Cerin. I have never enjoyed babysitting you," he said seriously, though truly joking.

"Do I detect a trace of humor in your voice, Haldir? I had wondered if you possessed such ability."

"Yes, well I have wondered if you possess a self-preservation instinct. One would think not based on the number of times you have visited this ward," Cerin snorted, familiar with this line of conversation, "Contrary to popular belief, I do have a sense of humor, though not everyone can be as free spirited as you, Rúmil, and Orophin," he said deadpanned. At his words, her face fell.

"I have not been quite so free spirited lately," she said softly. Haldir made to speak but was interrupted.

"No, child, one would not be expected to be free of cares in these times, nor with the mission you are faced with. Though I must admit that I have missed your smiling face as of late," came Galadriel's bell-like voice from behind Haldir. The pair turned their eyes to the Lady, Haldir rising from his seat.

"I have missed you as well," Cerin said with a grin.

"I came to see how you are healing, my dragon."

"I am doing well, Galadriel. Rest and the comfortable bed agrees with me, I think. Though I must say that injury is nothing I haven't faced before, as you and the healers know," she smiled.

Galadriel let out a bell-like laugh. "Yes, this healing ward is well acquainted with your presence I should think. Now, if you are feeling up to it, I suggest washing and changing attire. You will feel better for it. Then, perhaps you should go and enjoy the comforts of the fellowship or the Wood. You should not dwell on worries, Cerin. It would not do well for your spirits," Galadriel suggested.

Cerin nodded at the wisdom in the elleth's words.

"I must speak with Haldir about the borders, so he would not be befitting to keep you company right now."

After the pair left her, Cerin took the Lady's advice and had a long-needed bath and changed from her blood-spattered traveling clothes. She gladly exited the ward and strolled down the worn path, deep in thought. Eventually, she decided not to go to the camp of her companions, but instead continue her stroll.

After about an hour and still lost in the chaos of her thoughts, she came upon Aragorn who was sitting between the large roots of a massive tree, calmly smoking his pipe. She approached him and took a seat beside him. She could hear the tinkling laughter of the hobbits, so they could not be too far from the camp.

"Good afternoon, Aragorn," Cerin greeted with a friendly smile.

He nodded at her words, "Hello, Cerin. Are you feeling well?"

She laughed, "I am on the mend, thank you. Just a bit stiff from the inactivity, but my walk through Lorien has helped greatly. Have you and the others settled in nicely?"

"Yes, I dare say we all enjoyed having a comfortable bed to call our own and not a sharp pile of gravel. We have rested, though I think their spirits are a different matter. Their grief still lays heavy on their hearts, but it is passing," he said slowly, taking a long pull from his pipe.

"Aye, I understand. I am rested, but my heart is heavy. I fear to consider what his loss will mean for our quest," Cerin said lowly.

"We will travel the route Gandalf mapped and I will lead the Ring to Mordor. We will rely even more on stealth, I think. It is a heavy blow to lose someone of his power and knowledge from our small list of allies."

Cerin lapsed into silence. She was saddened by the loss of the Istari. Things had calmed between them before Moria. She no longer felt uncomfortable around him, but now there would be no opportunity for her to befriend him.

"I could have done more had I not been injured as I am," she suddenly added, sounding guilty. Aragorn appeared confused by her words.

"How could you have done more, by rushing forth to face a balrog? If someone of Gandalf's power could not defeat the beast, then you would have faced unfavorable odds. No, you would have been too late to help him or you would have perished with him. Then, the fellowship would have suffered the loss of two vital members," Aragorn reasoned.

"I believe I could have done something! Something, anything, would have been better than being perched on Boromir's back, watching helplessly as someone you care for dies because you did nothing!" Cerin said passionately.

"I do not believe you could have done anything, Cerin. You forget that I, too, stood there knowing I could do nothing and watched as my friend and mentor fell. But, I had to think of the quest and the fellowship's safety. I could have done nothing, just as you could have done nothing," Aragorn argued.

Cerin fell silent again as she considered his words. "I have had so many instances in my life where I have felt helpless – like I could do nothing to make any of it better. I have lost so many people. If I could prevent myself from losing just one more, suffering one more loss, I would do whatever I had to. It is hard to swallow that vow and continue on knowing that once again I did nothing and was helpless," she said vulnerably, "It's hard to know that after everything I've done – all the training, the traveling, the learning – it was for naught because I failed my promise to myself and someone got hurt."

"Yes, knowing that you took no action to help save someone you knew is difficult to overcome. But, feeling guilty that you did nothing and accepting that there was nothing that could have been done are completely different things. Until you accept that in some circumstances there really is nothing that can be done, you will feel this heavy weight of guilt on your heart," Aragorn said softly, taking in her surprising vulnerability.

Right now, sitting between the roots of a mallorn tree and hugging her knees to her chest while looking out towards the camp with a forlorn gaze, Cerin looked the most human he had ever seen her. During their travels, he'd rarely hear her speak to the hobbits of times long past of her and her brother in a wistful tone, looking lost in memory. He more often saw her listening raptly to the hobbits' recounting tales of their exploits in the Shire with a glazed look about her eyes that spoke of remembrance. She freely gave little more information about herself than what she had already revealed to him in Moria. He felt as though he knew only half of her and that she was hiding a great deal of herself. It seemed as though she was being held back by something.

"What's holding you back from being your true self?" he suddenly found himself asking, "What is it that follows your every step like the darkest shadow that could stop you from fully living?"

At his questions, Cerin's head whipped around, her eyes wider than ever. She remained silent, contemplative, and her gaze became wary. What a loaded question he posed. He had unknowingly asked her to reveal the single greatest and most damning discovery of her life. The knowledge of her lineage had condemned her in her mind and she knew it would do the same in the minds of others. To her knowledge, only Elrond, Galadriel, and Haldir knew of her ancestry. This one secret had forced her to live a half life, never revealing the whole truth for fear of someone connecting the clues. She had known from the instant she had discovered it that sharing such information with anyone would be a fatal mistake.

Now though, she had something much larger than simply her safety to account for when considering the consequences of not fully disclosing herself. She was on a mission to save middle earth with people she greatly cared for. Those four hobbits had become brothers to her, and the others had formed a familiar friendship with the woman. If her secret had somehow endangered them or their quest, she would never forgive herself.

Despite knowing that by all rights she should tell her companions about this secret, in that moment she could not bring herself to do so. A lifetime of secret-keeping and living in fear squashed that growing part of her that wanted to be honest with these people. One day she would tell them, she promised herself. One day she would be honest with everyone.

"I am not ready to share that information, Aragorn. Some day in the future I will tell you more of myself, but that day is not today," she said seriously.

He took a deeper look at the woman beside him, noticing the way her body had tensed at his question. He had obviously struck a nerve with his probing.

"I will ask no more, Cerin. However, you should remember that there are more than enough people around you willing to lend an ear should you need it. I heard once that a problem shared is a problem halved," he said congenially, "But enough of this talk, we should be resting and enjoying Lothlorien. Come, it is almost time for the evening meal."

With that, Aragorn stood and gestured towards the direction of the camp. Cerin gave him a grateful look for dropping the issue. She stood and took his arm with a small smile. Together, they walked the short distance to the camp and the others. Cerin took Aragorn's previous advice, and after greeting the hobbits and the men, she retired to her pallet to rest despite the early hour. She pushed thoughts of telling the others of her secret to the back of her mind. She would consider them another day.

***.*.*.*.***

The next day found Cerin relaxing amongst the roots of a mallorn tree within the camp. She was at peace laying there with her legs outstretched and her head cushioned by her arms. She laid there listening to the sounds of the Wood and of the camp. Sam was close by going over things in his pack to see what needed to be repaired. Frodo was next to him, choosing to remain at camp instead of exploring.

A heavy-hearted sigh brought Cerin out of her lazy revelry. Her pale blue eyes opened and squinted at the brightness of the clearing before she looked over at the source of the sigh. Sam was hunched over his things, looking every bit the opposite of the happy and carefree hobbit he normally was.

"What's the matter, Sam?" Cerin asked gently, sitting up to face the hobbit.

"It's this rope here, Miss Cerin. I was wondering if I should still pack it for when we leave. If Gandalf were here, I'd ask 'im," he said lowly, staring at the rope he held in his hands. Cerin stood and moved to sit next to the small hobbit.

"Well, what do you think he would say, Sam?"

"He'd say that it don't hurt to be prepared, he would," Sam muttered.

"Well, then there's your answer... Just know that there is no shame in missing him, Sam. We honor Gandalf by missing him and remembering him as he was. What will you remember him by?" she asked softly.

"His fireworks, they were always big and magical. No, that doesn't do them justice," he said self-deprecatingly.

"No, Sam, just by caring enough about him to grieve as you are does him justice. You have no need to spout flowery words and poems to honor him," Cerin said strongly. Sam gave her a small smile before taking the rope he held and pushing it into his pack.

"And you, Frodo, what will you miss most about Gandalf?" she asked the quiet hobbit

"His laugh," he said softly.

"He did have a mighty laugh, when he wasn't cross, that is," Cerin said lightheartedly. Frodo gave a miniscule smile before his expression fell and water welled in his intensely blue eyes.

"Come here, Frodo," Cerin beckoned, her arms open for his embrace. At once, the small hobbit moved from his spot and fell into her arms. Sobs could be heard from his place against her shoulder.

"I wish the Ring had never come to me. I wish Gandalf didn't have to die. And I wish none of this had happened," Frodo cried desperately into Cerin's arms, which tightened around him.

"Shhh, hush, Frodo," she whispered into his curly mess of brown hair, "And so wish all of those who live to see such times as these. But, Frodo, all we must decide is what to do with the time that is given to us."

Cerin ran a hand through hid curly locks before tilting his face back so she could look into his eyes, "Now, the decision is in your hands, Frodo. You have been dealt a large hand by fate, but it is up to you to decide how you will react. Will you buckle under the weight of this burden, or will you fight for all that you hold dear?" Cerin gazed seriously into Frodo's eyes and waited for his answer.

"I want to fight, Cerin, but it is so very hard," he whispered dejectedly.

"Aye, that is the plight of all who face this choice. But, find strength in the fact that you are not alone in this fight. You have me," Cerin said reassuringly.

"And me," Sam added determinedly from next to them.

"And you have the rest of the fellowship here to support you. You will never be alone in this, my friend."

Frodo sat back from Cerin's embrace and wiped his face. He paused before looking into the faces of Cerin and Sam. He smiled at them and nodded decidedly.

"Thank you."

***.*.*.*.***

"You have not been yourself as of late, my friend," Cerin spoke quietly from behind Boromir.

The great Man was startled slightly and turned to see who it was that spoke. Seeing Cerin, he turned back to look out across the creek. Cerin moved to stand abreast with the Captain and took in the sight that he was so fascinated by.

"I value solitude and quiet more than I once did, and I take my own company when I can, Cerin," he explained.

"I think we have all come to treasure any sort of peace we can find in these times," she mused.

The conversation lapsed into nothing. Cerin remained by Boromir's side, offering a quiet companionship for the man. Her mind had wandered by the time Boromir broke the quiet.

"It is a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing," he said musingly. Cerin turned her head to look at him. "It boggles the mind that something so small holds so much power; the power to pull all of us from our homes to journey across Middle Earth. It holds the power of destruction itself, and yet, I still see the means for it to do good. The people of Gondor are in dire need of such power. Am I wrong in thinking this?" he asked Cerin desperately.

She was silent for a long while, considering her response to such a question. "I see no wrong in the desire to save your people, Boromir. There is no wrong in your good intentions, but good intentions always have the potential to stray from the path of good," she reasoned, "That is the will of the Ring, Boromir! It prays on Men like you who think to do good with its power and warps them to do its Will. It was forged in malice and it seeks to do evil, my friend. Eventually, it will break you, for it has the strength to break even the strongest of hearts with the best intentions."

Boromir looked upon Cerin with a lost expression. Cerin recognized that he needed time to think and to be alone at that moment, so she made to stand.

"Think on what I have said, Boromir, and do not lose hope," she said sadly and grasped his shoulder in parting. She left the Captain looking out over the creek and returned to camp.

***.*.*.*.***

In their weeks in Lothlorien, she healed both her body and her spirit. For the first time in a while Cerin was able to relax completely and enjoy life. Her worries weren't forgotten but merely in the back of her mind where she had the convenience of not thinking on them. She took long walks through the Wood and simply absorbed the beauty and magnificence of nature. She joked and played with the hobbits, visited with Haldir, and caught up with her other favorite pranksters Rúmil and Orophin. She confided in Galadriel all of the hardships she had faced on the journey. She even took time to visit the practice fields to sharpen her skills with the bow and blade. Her time in the Wood was extremely cathartic. The woman felt lighter for all her efforts to relax.

It was midday some time into their visit to the Wood that Cerin was fully enjoying the protected borders and was sprawled out a clearing close to camp. She was loving the warmth of the sunlight and the sounds of the peaceful forest. After some time, her solitude was disturbed by small footsteps. Looking around, she spied Frodo walking deeper into the forest all alone. Concerned, Cerin made to follow him.

She followed at a distance. She came upon a small clearing that she recognized. Upon hearing voices, Cerin stopped behind the outer circle of trees. She did not want to intrude but she could not help hearing the last part of what sounded like Galadriel's and Frodo's conversation.

"What I saw - will it come true?" Frodo asked fearfully.

"The fate of your journey stands on the edge of a blade. Stray but a little, and it will fall. The fellowship is breaking, Frodo. The Ring will ruin each of you, one by one should you fail. This task was appointed to you, and if you don't find a way, no one will," Galadriel said seriously in her lilting voice.

"I know what I must do - it's just, I am afraid to do it," Frodo admitted quietly.

"Even the smallest person can change the course of the future, Frodo," she told him.

"Thank you, my Lady, I have much to think on," Frodo said, then slowly left the clearing.

Galadriel watched the small hobbit walk beyond the trees surrounding her before looking to her left and calling, "You may come out, Cerin."

"I did not mean to listen in, my Lady. I merely followed him out of concern, I promise," Cerin said sheepishly as she came to stand near the elleth.

"You are forgiven, Cerin, do not worry."

Cerin looked around them, taking in the sight of the Lady's Mirror. "Did he look into the Mirror?" she asked softly.

"He did."

"Then you know of what he saw?"

"I do. What is your true question, child?" Galadriel asked, her eyes penetrating in their intensity.

"If it should be that we fail, do I play a part in it?" Cerin asked lowly, her gaze seeking the truth in Galadriel's.

"We will have all played a part, should either outcome occur. It is up to you to decide what that part will be. Do not let you ancestor hinder you in your quest. As long as he does not know of your existence, you may remain in the shadows. Should he discover you..." the elleth trailed off.

"Should Sauron discover who I am, I would endanger they very thing I fight for. Of that much I am aware, my Lady," Cerin bit out bitterly.

"You have his blood in your veins, but you are not bound to his fate. You are Sauron's heir, not Sauron himself. You carry a heavy burden, Cerin, but do not make it heavier needlessly," the elleth reasoned.

Galadriel placed a light kiss on the woman's forehead, "Go, rest and forget your worries this day."

The Lady watched as the mortal woman left quietly before again turning her gaze away to spot another eavesdropper, though this time the being was much smaller.

'_It appears Fate is wanting to force your hand, my child, whether you are ready for such actions or not,'_Galadriel thought sadly as she watched the small hobbit slip away into the forest.

***.*.*.*.***

Cerin slowly made her way back to camp. She tried to put her mind at ease as she entered the clearing. Everyone was gathered for the midday meal and was chattering lightly amongst each other. She spied Frodo a little ways away from the group. His shoulders were hunched over and he looked tense. Cerin made a mental promise to speak with him after the meal. She took a seat next to the hobbits around the fire and accepted the bowl of stew from Sam with a gracious smile. The group became quiet as they all dug into the hearty meal.

"Ahhhhhh, how I do enjoy these Lorien meals! It beats the bland food of travel any day, I say," Pippin exclaimed while patting his full belly.

"Too true, Pip. I had feared I would never see second breakfast again! At least here they recognize the appetites of growing hobbits," Merry shot an accusatory glare towards Aragorn, remembering the apples he often threw at them when they complained of being hungry.

Cerin laughed at Merry's glare, well used to the hobbits and their complaining. Content silence fell over the clearing, and Cerin saw now as good a time to see what was wrong with Frodo as any. She stood from her place and ambled over to him. She knelt next to his small form and grasped his shoulder.

"Are you feeling well -," she started but was cut off by Frodo shrugging her hand off violently.

"How could you?" Frodo asked her in a low voice. Pain, anger, hurt, and betrayal all lacing his words.

Cerin stared at his heavy gaze, vaguely noticing that all conversation behind her had ceased.

"What is it that I have done, Frodo?" she asked quietly.

He stood then, his stance guarded. "Go on, tell them all who you really are," he almost shouted at her. His eyes were accusing in their stare.

Cerin realized what he spoke of and her form practically folded in on itself. "Do not do this, Frodo. I am still the same woman you have known for the past months; the same one who taught you to fight and wrestled with Merry and Pippin. I have not changed."

His face lost some of its anger, but all of the hurt and betrayal remained. "Was all that you told me a lie? All your promises, were they false?" he shook his head, "Tell them, Cerin. Tell them who it is that they unknowingly travel with," he ordered.

"Well what is it, Lass? Get on with it," Gimli's voice sliced through the tense air impatiently.

She took a last long look at Frodo's face before turning to face the rest of the group. She gazed at their apprehensive expressions and wary stances.

"No," she shook her head," I won't tell you that because that is not who I am. I am Cerin, a scout for Elrond and a wanderer from Gondor. I am the woman you have seen amongst you for several months now and no one else. I have told no falsehoods, nor acted differently from my true self."

"Then I will be the one to tell them," he said with a dark tone.

"Who is she, Frodo?" Aragorn asked quietly after a few moments of silence.

"She is Sauron's heir," he said bitterly.

A shocked silence fell on over the camp. Gimli was the first to break it.

"You mean to tell us, Lass, that you are the heir to the foulest scum Middle Earth has ever been plagued with? And you decided to pledge yourself on the very mission to destroy him? Aragorn, did you know of this? She is a risk to the safety of the Ring! She puts us all at risk of discovery!" the dwarf shouted, outraged. After the Dwarf's outburst, they all erupted an uproar.

Cerin slowly raised her head and took in the disappointed and hurt gazes of Legolas and Boromir before looking at the enraged and sputtering dwarf. Finally, she turned to look at the hobbits, the small creatures she considered brothers. They were frozen, looking upon her with fear and betrayal. She looked sadly back at Frodo and saw his expression was unchanged. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her eyes opened to reveal pale blue pools of sadness. She gazed about the camp, taking in the expressions of anger, hate, and betrayal. Disappointment joined the grief in her gaze.

"I had hoped that I had proven my honest intentions by this point in our friendship, but I see now that you are not willing to look past my heritage. If you wish to believe me to be someone else, then so be it, but I will not let you label me as such. I fear I can travel no further with the fellowship. I bid you all safe passage and a successful journey." Once finished, Cerin turned and strode from the clearing.

She heard voices rise up from behind her as she walked. Immediately, Cerin sped up her pace, not wanting to hear anymore.

***.*.*.*.***

TBC

Definitions

_Angulcóe: dragon_


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, nor any of the affiliated characters. I only own Cerin (my OC). Any references to the books or movie are acknowledged. Any infringement on my part is purely accidental and unintended.

***.*.*.*.***

Chapter 8:

Goodbyes of All Kinds

***.*.*.*.***

In one of the wooded knolls that littered the forest, Cerin's still figure leaned, shoulders hunched, against a great mallorn tree. The beauty of the Golden Wood was lost to her as she continued to stare blankly out into the depths of the falling dusk. Her mind was a roiling contradictory mass of chaotic emotions and numb stillness. She was in a state of disbelieving shock.

What she had said to the fellowship before leaving the clearing was the truth. She had honestly believed that they would have seen her honest intentions in joining the company. Oh, she had no delusions of them not being angry with her keeping that information from them, but she had dared to hope for a bit better of a reception. She didn't need to hear the angry outbursts after her exit to know her time with them was done. The look of hurt, disappointment, and betrayal had pierced her heart. Oh, and the hobbits! Her brothers feared her, thought she betrayed them. Her already heavy heart sank further, realizing all she had just lost.

She had known since she discovered her origins that she would be faced with people's fear and hate should they ever be informed, but she had yet to experience it for she hid the knowledge from everyone except Elrond. Her whole life she had been accepted into people's hearts, but they only accepted the person she let them see. Her past shaped her character, the knowledge of her destiny and her determination to alter that path molded her every action. Her friends and the people she interacted with did not know anything of this part of her. They knew, truly, only a fraction of her real self. Her time with the fellowship had given her hope, though misguided as she knew now, to one day expose this secret of hers and unburden her heart from its weight. She let out a quiet, derisive chuckle, breaking the stillness of the clearing. Oh, how that hope could not have been more false! Now she truly knew that her years of protecting her secret and her heart were the right course. Guard her heart she would, but she would also continue living her life, however lonely it may be. With a vow to avoid false hopes, however small, she turned and strode back to the city, cracked heart and all.

***.*.*.*.***

"You are leaving us," rang Galadriel's bell-like, all-knowing voice. The elleth gazed at the resolute female across from her with a sad acceptance.

"My path forks from that of the fellowship's, so I will seek occupation elsewhere. The time of my continued wandering is upon me," Cerin explained blandly, though it physically pained her to utter those words.

"The fate of Middle Earth is uncertain. If those involved in this venture stray but a little, then all will be lost to your ancestor's tyranny. Though I know it would be preferred for you to continue on in this quest, I see that your path strays from the others'. You are needed elsewhere, for what I don't know," she informed with utmost gravity.

"Then I will leave Lothlorien the day after the morrow. I must prepare my things and say my farewells. It will pain me to leave the forest for it has always brought peace to my soul to see it," Cerin said, despondent.

Galadriel approached the disheartened woman, taking her shoulders and gazing into her eyes with pure affection. "Lothlorien will be for the worse upon your departure. You bring a light into the lives that you touch, including mine. Know that you will always have a home here in the Wood, but I must tell you that the time of the elves is fading. My time here will not see the end of this war. Not all here have felt the pull of the sea, you will not be alone here should you return." The elleth leaned forward and kissed Cerin's forehead. Cerin forewent appearances and pulled the Lady into an embrace.

"I will miss you. You have always treated me with kindness and have let me into your heart. I want you to know that I appreciate all that you have done in my past and for my future," Cerin said, teary-eyed.

"I will miss your presence as well, my dragon. I foresee many challenges ahead of you but it is up to you to persevere. Go forward and prosper, do not let darkness cloud your light."

***.*.*.*.***

"I leave on the morrow, Haldir. I am not needed here anymore," Cerin said despondently, though truthfully.

Haldir relaxed his taught bow and lowered his aim at the practice target some distance before him, turning his surprised gaze towards the woman beside him. "Not needed? Cerin, you are most certainly needed in our lives," he said strongly.

Cerin diverted her eyes from the elf and gazed into the distance, uncomfortable with discussing the subject so many times. So badly she had wanted to pack her belongings and slip away into the night, burying the pain of her most recent visit to the Wood deep within herself, but that would have been a disservice to those that cared about her still. So, here she was, once again ripping the barely formed scab off the fresh wound on her heart.

"Yes, I know, but my original purpose for travelling here is null. I feel in my heart the pull of the wilderness. I must wander once again, my friend."

Haldir gazed shrewdly at Cerin, determining the truthfulness of her words. "You may very well feel the pull of the wild, but what could have happened as to set you free of your oath? You are a woman of honor and loyalty; you would not abandon such a commitment."

Cerin inwardly flinched at his insightfulness. She had known that chances were high of her having to explain herself to the elf. Not much was ever able to get past him, his two pranksters for brothers could attest to that. "I have been freed of that commitment against my wishes, Haldir," she looked at his questioning face, "Frodo discovered my lineage and confronted me in front of the fellowship. He did not take the news well, so I did not give the others the chance to do the same and bid them farewell," she finished sadly.

Haldir looked to understand everything then. He approached her and clasped one shoulder in a friendly and comforting gesture. "All is understood, friend. You have come to be a sister to three brothers here and you will be sorely missed in your absence," he said with care, "How am I going to tell Rúmil and Orophin of your departure? That is, I'm assuming you're going to leave that honor to me, yes?"

Cerin chuckled, "You think I would dare to tell those two myself? I may be unhappy at the moment but I still value my life, thank you, and my hair color now that I think about it."

Haldir laughed a free spirited laugh few had seen from the strict March Warden. "I remember that. Yes, let's keep these tangled tresses safe, shall we?"

"Hey!"

"You know I speak the truth. Now, go and prepare yourself. A journey of healing is an exhausting venture if there ever was one. Travel as you may, Cerin, and heal this hurt you have. Take care in your journey and I pray you have a safe path. Remember those here that care about you. We may be few in number, but not in our love for you." With that Haldir gave her a tight embrace before lightly shoving her from the practice field.

Once she was gone from his sight, he turned back to the target and pulled his bow taught once again, "It is a shame that the fate of our world rests in the hands of such an ignorant group of people."

***.*.*.*.***

With one last tug, the saddle and saddlebags were secured to her mount. Her horse was a longtime friend and companion that she had left in Lothlorien with Haldir on her last journey. He had been a gift from Haldir, having been adopted into their family. Greatheart, his name suited him well. He was swift despite his great size and had strength without limits. His dapple gray color made him striking to look upon. She had missed him greatly in their time apart.

"You ready for an adventure, friend?"

The steed whickered and moved in an antsy fashion, proving his readiness for the open plains. Cerin grabbed the reins and walked him out of the small stable. She paused just before mounting. She tightened the clasp of her traveler's cloak, the leaf of Lothlorien secure in its place in the hollow of her throat. Finally, she stretched out a hand and stroked a nearby tree, a goodbye of sorts. With a turn, she mounted Greatheart and pushed him forward out the gates of the Golden Wood and away from her most recent heartache.

***.*.*.*.***

"I will not demean your decision to let her leave the fellowship, Aragorn, nor belittle you with my words for I can see you are already doing it to yourself. In time, all will see the error of their ways and all that they have lost by not having faith in their friend," Galadriel spoke as she joined the Ranger before the boats.

"I do not regret my decision for her to part ways with us. I do regret that we are all losing a friend and an asset to this mission, and on such bad terms, too. I would have liked to have had the opportunity to say farewell to Cerin before we departed from Lothlorien, but I was unable to find her."

"You could not find her because she has already left the Wood, Aragorn," the Lady said calmly.

"What? She has left the Wood? To what end would she choose to leave, for what purpose?" he asked in shock.

"As she told me, it was time for her to wander once again. I had assumed her fallout with the fellowship was the motivation behind her departure."

Aragorn merely nodded, slowly accepting that she had already left.

"I think that the actions of both sides are understandable. She no longer felt welcome here despite this being a second home for her, and the fellowship was angry with her for keeping such a secret hidden from them, and a dangerous secret at that. They do not realize that she had considered all of the possibilities before she even agreed to go forth with the company. Hurt and anger are powerful emotions."

"That is possible," he conceded.

"I would like to tell you this, Aragorn, not to make you feel guilty, but to give you insight into Cerin's character. Besides Elrond, myself, and Haldir and his brothers, none knew of her secret. She saw a kindred spirit in you and had a connection with each person in the fellowship. Her trust is not easily earned. That knowledge about herself is not freely given on a whim. Think on my words, Aragorn, and know that you, too, will face a choice regarding your heritage. Judge Cerin only as harshly as you are willing to judge yourself. Farewell, Aragorn, and be safe in your quest."

Aragorn nodded to the Lady and headed towards the fully loaded boats. With his arrival, the smaller fellowship pushed off from the bank and slowly paddled out of view of the tall mallorn trees and towards the Falls of Rauros.

***.*.*.*.***

TBC

Please Review!


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, nor any of the affiliated characters. I only own Cerin (my OC). Any references to the books or movie are acknowledged. Any infringement on my part is purely accidental and unintended.

***.*.*.*.***

Chapter 9:

Life Goes On

***.*.*.*.***

Leisurely, yet cautiously, Cerin and Greatheart made their way across the terrain. With no real destination in mind, they went where the wind took them. They stopped when they felt tired, not feeling any rush to keep moving. Greatheart was enjoying the freedom of the open lands and the lush grasses he could graze on. A fortnight after their departure from the great Wood found them just outside the lands of Rohan. Rumor had it that the nation's king had been taken by the shadow and rogues were pillaging villages, making Cerin lend even more to the side of caution as they entered the territory. So far they had not encountered any obstacles or dangers, and she wanted to keep it that way.

The travelling and solitude had left much to be desired in regards to company. The only distraction from the monotony that their routine soon fell into was her thoughts. Cerin realized that this was probably the worst means for her to accomplish her goal of _not_contemplating the last couple of weeks. All forms of distraction the woman managed to create for herself eventually failed, bringing her thoughts straight back to her simmering disappointment and sadness. She mentally compared her recent losses to the raw pain that she felt when she lost her brother. She knew that with time it would fade, or she would succeed in pushing it from the forefront of her mind so she could function normally.

'_I can't wallow in this forever. I've felt the pain and grieved my loss, now it's time to move forward with my life. I may have more guards around my heart and my past but I can still go on living. This will not cripple my will and I will not turn into a simpering maid!'_

With a tug on Greatheart's reins, Cerin pull the steed away from the large clump of grasses he had chosen once they stopped for a rest. The woman mounted in a smooth motion, and prodded the animal forward. Once again the pair was on the move, travelling further into Rohan.

***.*.*.*.***

In a fortnight the fellowship had travelled a great distance down the massive river. Amidst the constant air of danger was also a feeling of oddity within the group. Each of their actions was dampened, to varying degrees, by this feeling of, _wrongness_, almost. They all recognized the cause of the feeling as being the absence of a certain female member. Those most affected were most certainly the hobbits, Aragorn, Boromir, and Legolas. Gimli appeared less affected because of he still harbored anger towards the woman. At times, each looked to be in a daze of thought or memory. The sense of betrayal had faded and left in its wake a great sense of loss and longing.

Aragorn continued to lead the company, as his role dictated he should, but was ever aware of this feeling of something missing from their group. In fact, his mind was consumed with this strange _void_. He considered it most at times of inactivity, like his shifts at watch, as he was now. He thought often on his reaction to Cerin's story and his current feelings on the subject.

'_Her laugh,'_he thought, '_I miss that tinkling laugh that would drift from the back of the line to me as I walked in the lead. Almost always the cause was one of the hobbits that stuck to her like tree sap.'_

Thinking of the hobbits, he looked over at the four, huddled together for warmth. The scene appeared odd, for one was missing from their bundle of warmth. Aragorn knew they had felt the loss of the woman particularly hard. It was a hard blow to take so soon after the loss of Gandalf. He had heard the little ones speak of their missing member, though in hushed tones fearing angering any of the others. Apparently they, too, had overcome their initial anger and fear of Cerin and now felt only regret and longing for her to return. They had lost a sister when she left.

Aragorn turned his gaze back to the riverbank, scanning for any sign of the Enemy. He sighed softly, knowing that this line of thought wasn't likely to end that night or in the days to come. The fear, he knew, came from the threat she posed just by simply existing, and the anger from the risk she took by traveling with them, walking straight into the path of the Eye. Later, after hearing Galadriel's words and a rather uncomfortable conversation between the March Warden and the company, their anger fizzled.

In his contemplation, Aragorn realized how similar Cerin and he truly were. They were heirs to powerful rulers, though admittedly, on different sides of the war. Both continued to live their lives and not sequestered away in some backwater hut deep in the wilds, but surely not as fully as they would if they had different lineages. While thinking of their similarities, he became frustrated with Cerin and with himself. His frustration with the woman was born from Cerin's willingness to risk their quest and safety. But, his frustration with himself came from his fear of facing what she had seemed to accept readily: the past. He knew that their journey was rapidly coming to a head and he was going to have to accept or decline his heritage and right to the throne of Gondor.

"You think too much, my friend," Legolas' light voice came through the night. Aragorn wasn't startled like most would have been, but rather turned to look simply at the elf.

"I would agree with you on that account. My mind will not settle in its contemplation." Legolas seated himself next to the Ranger, also facing the wide riverbank before them.

"I believe I know what is troubling you, for it is on most of our minds," he paused and looked pointedly at the Man next to him, "Her absence has affected us all, some more so than others."

"I fear that we were too harsh in our reactions to her," Aragorn admitted to the elf. Legolas was silent, considering his answer to such a loaded question.

"I believe we let our emotions get the better of us, my friend. We all feel the weight of our goal and of our small likelihood for success. But, I do not feel that we were exactly wrong in making her leave. She posed a risk of equal size to the Ring itself, and I do not think it wise to have to items of such importance together for the Enemy's taking."

"I regret the scene in front of the company. Granted, the result of her leaving would have been the same," Aragorn said, frustrated.

"Did you care for her?" Legolas asked directly. Aragorn turned sharply, surprise in his eyes before it faded to a dull pain-filled gaze.

"No, I did not care for her as you think. I may have, given time and if the circumstances were not so grim. Anything could have blossomed were we not in the middle of a war and the memory of Arwen not so fresh in my mind. However, those are not the circumstances. Arwen is fading but still close to my heart, and a war is no place for fancies," he explained with a hint of bitterness.

Legolas accepted his answer, though surprised that his friendship with the scout hadn't grown beyond its boundaries. He told the Ranger this.

"I believe it could have grown to something if everything in life was in our favor, but I cannot know. The likelihood of us ever meeting her again is zero."

***.*.*.*.***

Things had fallen apart so quickly. Not minutes after having discussed their route of travel had Frodo and Boromir gone missing. They all had run off to look for the two. Aragorn had been the one to eventually find Frodo, a frightened, trembling mass of a hobbit. Boromir had tried to take the Ring! And now Frodo was offering the blasted thing to him!

"No, Frodo, I do not want it. I swore my life to protect you and I will not break that oath," Aragorn remembered swearing to the frightened hobbit, grasping the outstretched palm and slowly closing it into a fist around the Ring. He had looked deeply into Frodo's eyes and saw his look of sorrow. Without words, Aragorn had understood that the hobbit would no longer be traveling with the fellowship.

"I would have gone with you to the end, even into the very fires of Mordor," he had reminded Frodo.

"I know," Frodo had whispered.

That was when the horn had sounded through the silence that had fallen between the Ranger and the Ring bearer. Immediately, Aragorn had known it was the horn of Gondor and the Man was in danger.

"If you should ever meet Cerin again, please tell her how sorry I am for my words. In my heart, she will always be a sister to me," Frodo had asked the Ranger with such deep sorrow in his eyes. Aragorn could only nod his promise to the hobbit as the horn sounded again in the distance.

He had shouted for Frodo to run, to continue on, and the little one had followed his urging and dashed into the forest back towards the river. Frodo hadn't been out of sight more than a minute before the clearing was swamped with large, grotesque, black beasts. The white hand alerted him that these were the creatures Cerin had described at the Council. These were Saruman's creations. The horn sounded once more while he was fighting off most of the ones that had charged him. He had finally been able to break away and run towards the direction of the trumpeting horn.

What he saw when he reached the main battle had almost given him pause. Boromir was fighting fiercely against the Uruks with three black arrows protruding from his torso. That was when Aragorn spotted the massive Uruk with a black bow raised and aimed for the Gondorian. It was going to be the killing blow. He had charged the creature from behind and launched himself, skewing the path of the discharged arrow. He fought hard to defeat the scum and finally beheaded it. He turned to offer aid but rather saw the Man had collapsed from his wounds. He had noticed that Legolas and Gimli had finally joined them as he comforted Boromir in his last moments.

"They took the little ones! I could not protect them, couldn't save them," Boromir had lamented, "I tried to take the Ring! I have failed you all."

"You have not lost your honor, Boromir. You fought bravely. Do not aggravate your wounds," Aragorn had responded.

"No, it is my end," he gasped and clutched Aragorn's hands in a pleading, desperate fashion, "Please, go forth and destroy the Ring. Restore Gondor to her former glory, my friend, my king."

"I will, Boromir, I promise," Aragorn whispered as the light faded from the wounded Man's eyes.

Now he was here, cradling the limp form of his countryman and thinking on how everything had crumbled to pieces so completely within the last hour. The fellowship was broken. Frodo had gone, Merry and Pippin were captured, and Boromir lay dead in his arms. Would everything they had fought for be for naught? Here he paused. Would he really allow their efforts be in vain? No, he realized. No, their hopes would not be for nothing. They had sworn an oath and they would keep it, no matter their numbers!

"Come, we will send him over the Falls of Rauros. It will be a fraction of what he deserves, but it will be a burial nonetheless," Aragorn spoke to the silent figures of Legolas and Gimli, their features drawn in sadness.

With that they gathered the fallen Man and carried him to the riverbank, placing him in one of the docked canoes. Silently, they stood in remembrance and honor as they watched as their friend, arranged regally with his hands clasping his blade, went over the roaring Falls to a watery grave.

The haze of grief fled Legolas' eyes as they brightened with recognition, "Come, Frodo and Sam have just reached the bank! We can still catch them!" The elf raced to push the last canoe back into the water. Aragorn turned and tightened the laces of Boromir's arm braces to his own forearms, not responding to Legolas' words.

"You mean not to follow them," the stunned elf stated rather than questioned.

"Their fate is their own now, we can do no more for them. Rather, there are two other Hobbits in great need of aid. We run now, so pack light," Aragorn told them and grabbed for his already light pack before striding away back into the forest.

"Aye, lad, we will not leave Merry and Pippin to that awful fate!" Gimli confirmed and secured his axe to his side.

"No, we will not, Gimli. Now please pick up your pace," Legolas' faint voice drifted from the forest.

Gimli looked around confused before he realized that the Man and the elf had gone on ahead of him. The dwarf snorted, annoyed, and took off after his companions.

***.*.*.*.***

'_Why must my life be so difficult?'_ she wondered derisively.

She had been packing her meager things to make ready for continuing on when a very familiar figure appeared in the distance. Now, here she was in her makeshift camp and standing before a man - no, an Istari - that everyone thought to be dead. And conversing with him, no less! She knew she wasn't hallucinating because, despite what she thought some of the time, she was completely sane. So, she truly was speaking with Gandalf, and ignoring him if the annoyed expression he was sporting was anything to go by.

"I apologize, Gandalf. I am merely attempting to take in the fact that I am speaking with a person I had resigned to being dead. It is a daunting concept to wrap one's mind around," she apologized, rebuked by his irritation.

"Yes, I am aware of that fact. Had you been listening, you would have heard that I was never truly gone, my dear. I have a great distaste for repeating myself, so I will simply say that I am now Gandalf the White. Though I must ask why you are traveling by your lonesome?" he probed.

Cerin met his questioning gaze with her steadfast one. "Though I have yet to repeat myself, I will make this tale as short as yours. While in Lothlorien my lineage was revealed to the fellowship. Needless to say they were not thrilled with my presence and the risk I posed to the quest," she said self-deprecatingly, gesturing to her surroundings, "Now I travel alone and wherever I wish."

"Hmm, it is unfortunate that you are no longer there to offer aid, but I must admit that at this moment I am glad you left as you did."

"Why would you be glad? I thought you accepted my being in the fellowship?" she asked, hurt and confused, "Wait! Why have you not questioned my heritage?"

"I must confess that Elrond confided your blood's history to me during our time in Imladris, and I did approve of your accompanying us, my girl. I am merely stating that I have an opportunity for you travel with a purpose instead of this simple meandering of the countryside," Gandalf said, purposely vague.

The hurt was replaced with interest in Cerin's gaze. "And what would said opportunity entail, exactly?"

"You must ride to Edoras, my child, and I will meet you there in a few days' time. You have heard the rumors of the Shadow influencing the King, haven't you? We must remove this threat! We may still have a chance of victory if we can turn the Horsemen to our favor."

"Surely, you cannot expect me to do this on my own, Gandalf?" Cerin asked incredulously, "If the shadow has as strong a hold on Theoden as you seem to think, I have no hope of banishing it from his mind."

"No, Cerin, I will be the one to remove Saruman's grip from Rohan. You must go to rally our allies from within, for not all have fallen prey to the darkness. It would do good to have them on our side when I arrive. But, be careful, child. Do not look for welcome there and be careful of what you say," Gandalf explained. Cerin nodded her understanding.

"May I ask what you are planning that will cause you to lag a few days' time behind me? I am simply curious."

"Why, I have an old friend I must visit. I haven't been to his neck of the woods in quite a while," Gandalf chuckled, "Now, I really must be off."

'_That wasn't cryptic at all,'_Cerin thought sarcastically.

From her seat she watched as the wizard rose, preparing to depart. Gandalf straightened his white robes and firmly gripped his ivory staff.

"Farewell, my child. I wish you safe travels," he said with a parting pat on her shoulder. He turned from her makeshift campsite and whistled.

Despite her confusion, she knew better than to think Gandalf was acting without reason. Soon the sound of racing hoofs reached her ears and she quickly spotted the source. A majestic white stallion came to an abrupt stop right before the wizard.

Spying her gaping expression, Gandalf answered her unasked question, "This is Shadowfax, the Lord of all horses."

With that, the Istari mounted the noble steed. He nodded to her one last time before urging the horse into motion. She watched as their white figures disappeared over the horizon.

"Well, I guess I can't say that I'm really wandering anymore now that I have a destination in mind. Edoras it is," she spoke to herself.

***.*.*.*.***

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, nor any of the affiliated characters. I only own Cerin (my OC). Any references to the books or movie are acknowledged. Any infringement on my part is purely accidental and unintended.

***.*.*.*.***

Chapter 10:

The Land of Horses

***.*.*.*.***

Greatheart's powerful stride quickly brought the city of Edoras into view on the horizon. Cerin's cloak and long auburn locks whipped behind her as they raced across the rolling plains. The loud thumping of Greatheart's hooves crashing against the earth and the roar of the wind were the only sounds that met her ears. Her pale blue eyes remained fixed on the approaching image of the city.

As they reached the foot of the small mountain the city sat atop, Greatheart slowed to a sedate pace. The lively air of the once great capital was gone. After gaining entrance at the city gates, this became more apparent to Cerin. No sounds of conversations or joyful children came on the wind as they once did. The very city itself seemed dull and clouded with grief. The atmosphere was so heavy that it felt smothering and oppressive. It was hard to tell that the homes were still inhabited from the lifelessness of the place, even when she spied actual people.

Cerin left Greatheart with a kind stable boy before approaching the beautiful palace of the Horse Lords. She climbed the massive staircase to the main entrance, where two guards were stationed.

"State your business, my Lady," the shorter guard said in a monotone.

"I am here seeking the hospitality of the Horse Lord, good sirs," she answered politely.

"I am afraid you cannot enter armed as you are, my Lady," the other guard added.

"Understandable, though I am leery to leave my possessions. May I have your word they will be safe?" Cerin asked seriously.

"Aye, Lady, your things will be safe with us, they will. Just policy, you see. No one is allowed inside so armed, by word of Grima Wormtongue," The shorter guard informed, looking as though he were swallowing something foul.

"I see," Cerin muttered.

She unbuckled the belt that carried her sword and pulled her bow from her shoulders. She tried to hide her reluctance as she handed her weapons over for keeping. Once she was unarmed, to their knowledge, the short guard opened the massive wooden door and motioned her inside.

Cerin entered the large, dimly lit room and immediately noticed the figures at the opposite end. The ornate throne held a withered old man, a man who could barely hold his head aloft. His face bore deep wrinkles and his eyes were glazed with age and confusion. This slumped and weak man was not the Theoden she had heard stories of. Beside him was knelt a beautiful woman who clasped the King's wrinkled hand in familiarity. She was donned in a flowing brown gown and her golden hair was left hanging in long waves down her back.

Upon her entrance, both figures looked towards her. The woman's face morphed to polite acknowledgment while Theoden's remained static like a weary statue. Cerin met her with a courteous nod before greeting the tired king. An indecipherable mumble was the only reply.

"Lady Cerin, I am Lady Eowyn, shield maiden of Rohan and niece to my Lord Theoden. May I ask for the meaning for your visit?" Eowyn asked curiously.

"I have grown weary of travel and seek the renowned hospitality of the Horse Lords," Cerin said, though not entirely truthfully, "I hope I am not causing too large of an imposition on your household with my presence?"

"No, there is no imposition, my Lady. You are welcome to stay as long as you need before you continue your journey," Eowyn said politely and turned to her uncle, "My Lord, I believe our guest is hungry. I shall take her to the kitchens for an early supper. Take care, Uncle."

After placing a delicate kiss to her uncle's withered cheek, she turned and guided Cerin from the large entrance hall and into a dark hallway. After many turns, she pulled Cerin into a room that could only be the kitchens. The room was filled with delicious smells and warmth from the large cooking fire.

Eowyn put together a modest meal for Cerin, which she thanked the shield maiden for before consuming the warm food. Once finished, Eowyn offered to show Cerin to a room she could use for the duration of her stay. They had both made to leave the room when a maid fairly rushed into the kitchen and started at the sight of the Lady.

"My Lady, the Lord's son's condition has turned for the worse! You are needed in his rooms immediately," she intoned urgently.

"I am sorry, my Lady. I must see to my kin," Eowyn said hurriedly to Cerin.

"Would you mind if I accompanied you to see him? I do not know much of healing, but I do know some things," Cerin asked her trying to be helpful.

Eowyn nodded decidedly and grabbed her skirts before almost running from the room with Cerin following in her wake.

After a few turns, the women arrived at an open door. They entered and Eowyn approached the bed, kneeling beside it. Sometime later, she gestured for Cerin to join her at the bedside. She noticed that the man was completely still. The fact that he still yet lived could only be discerned from the shallow rise and fall of his chest. The bandages that littered his head and chest were soaked through with blood. He did not have long to live.

"What can I do?" Cerin asked, wishing to assist somehow.

"There is nothing that I can think of. I have tried all remedies that were possibilities. I apologize for being frank, but I feel that I must confide in someone. I can see that you know the ways of battle and in that I see you as a kindred spirit. I am alone here even though my uncle still yet breathes. I feel my home is doomed and my people will suffer for it," Eowyn intoned sadly as she gazed at her cousin.

"Lady Eowyn, if you are doing so, may I be frank with my words as well?" Cerin asked and continued at the woman's nod, "Surely you have beseeched your Uncle for aid, for him to see reason?" Cerin asked.

"Times are dark, Lady Cerin. My brother has been banished from the realm, my uncle is frail in heart and mind, and my cousin lies here dying," Eowyn said lowly, her eyes full of sadness.

"His mind is not his own. Grima Wormtongue poisons his mind with his vile tongue. He does not even know that his son lies here dying! And Grima! He haunts my steps, follows me with his foul gaze. I cannot escape him, just as my uncle cannot escape his poisonous words," Eowyn raged, frustrated and grieving.

"My Lady," Cerin breathed quietly, stepping closer towards the woman, "Your plight pulls at my heart and I feel the need to tell you the true reason for my visit to your home. I have come not just to rest from my travels, as I spoke earlier. I bring word that help shall soon arrive in Edoras, but to what end, I cannot say."

Cerin watched as her words calmed the woman slightly and a spark of hope returned to her eyes. Eowyn did not question Cerin's vague explanation, but merely nodded.

"Very well, then, let me show you the room I spoke of and a change of clothes. The ones you have on have seen better days, I think," Eowyn said with a glimpse of a smile. With a one last sad glance back towards her cousin, the shield maiden again led Cerin away, and this time towards the promised bed.

***.*.*.*.***

Cerin sat gracefully on a wooden stool at Theodred's bedside. Her clean white gown flowed about her feet and the sleeves fell away from her hands. She had already inspected his wounds to see if any of her knowledge of healing could help him, but her limited knowledge would not be enough to save him. For now, time was the only unknown in Theodred's death. Behind her, Cerin heard the clunk of the room's door being opened.

"I do not believe we have met," a low voice spoke, dripping in false politeness.

Cerin turned on her seat and spied a man standing near the doorway that could only be Grima Wormtongue. His visage certainly fit his name. His black hair was slick with grease and unkempt. His face, pale and drawn, was twisted in his polite façade and wearing a fake smile. He wore faded black robes that had seen better days. As he approached Cerin, she noticed how similar he looked to a rat on the street and a complete sneak.

"No," she said slowly, "We have not met, Sir."

"I am Grima Wormtongue, Lady, advisor to the King," he intoned, full of false importance.

"My name is Cerin, Sir," she said with a fake smile and purposely not saying her last name or station.

He approached within an arm's reach and took in her appearance with an obvious leer. "What purpose could bring such a beautiful woman to Rohan? Surely you are not a wayward damsel in need?" He stretched out an arm and brushed a lock of hair from her face.

Cerin desperately tried to hide her uneasiness from the man before her. "I have come seeking rest during my journey before continuing onwards, Sir. In my time here, I have befriended Lady Eowyn and have taken to assisting her where I can."

"Well, Lady, surely there must be something that can better hold your interest than our wounded Prince," Grima said lowly and he circled Cerin, trailing his hand down her arm and to her lower back.

"I wish to be here in his time of need and last hours, Sir. Lady Eowyn is expecting me soon," she gritted, trying to push away from his hold.

"He won't care, will he? He will be dead soon by the looks of him. And the good Lady Eowyn is doing fine by her lonesome. Why, I just saw her in the kitchens," he soothed falsely, pulling Cerin closer to his body. Her rage sparked at his words.

"You would do well to leave the Lady to herself, and to unhand me," Cerin warned quietly as he tightened his grip and his hands started to roam.

"No, I am quite enjoying myself, in both respects," he said in his sickly tone.

Just as his hand started tugging at her dress, Cerin shoved the vile creature away from her and made for the door. The rat, Grima, yelled for the guards just as she opened the door. She was grabbed roughly by the guards posted outside the room, her hands pulled sharply to her back and tied. Her struggles did little good as the guard tying her hands yanked her arm upwards in a painful move. Cerin pushed the pain from her mind as low chuckles met her ears. She looked upwards to see Grima standing before her, staring at her with a triumphant gleam.

"Would you like to reconsider, Lady?" he asked almost sweetly. Cerin answered by spitting on his robes.

A loud smack resounded in the cramped hallway. Cerin tried to ignore the burning of her cheek as she looked at the power-hungry traitor before her.

"You would do well to obey, Lady. Treason is not taken lightly. Take her away," Grima's slick voice ordered.

***.*.*.*.***

The cell was cramped, damp, and dark. The sparse torches did little to light her new accommodations. She was given a bucket, straw masquerading as a mattress, and a blanket that had seen better days. The cell was constantly cold and her scrap of a blanket did little to warm her. She had no method to track the passage of time for there were no windows in her underground prison. The guards outside the cells were lacking for company and manners. Time passed slowly and in constant boredom, hunger, and agitation. She received one meal per day, though she could not truly tell with the lack of sunlight.

Many days must have passed in the great length of time she had been in the cell. Her face still hurt and was sure to be purple still. Grima had visited her twice during her stay and gifted her with several cuts and more bruises at her continued refusal to bow to his desires. He gave her the worst scrape on her left arm during his last visit to her after she had landed a well-placed blow to his jaw. The blood had finally crusted over after what seemed like too long of a time. Her once white sleeve was sure to be blood red now. Her hands were now constantly bound after she struck the rat, and the rope was rubbing her wrists raw. There was no telling how long she would be stuck as she was. She couldn't try to escape until the guards near her were unsuspecting. She feared for Eowyn more than ever. Having been denied, Grima would most likely seek out the woman. Cerin could only hope that Eowyn would remain unharmed.

Some great time later, the sounds of a commotion filtered into Cerin's cell. A call went up and the guards outside her cell took off running. Cerin could only hope that it meant Gandalf had finally arrived. Standing now, she studied the door to her cell. Cerin had no weapon on her or anything to pick the lock with, so she did the only thing left for her to try. With a great shove, she threw her body against the door. It gave a great bang, but the solid wood door did not give.

"Not my best idea," she murmured to herself, feeling the throbbing pain in her shoulder.

After two more tries, the door still refused to give and Cerin conceded defeat. She had exhausted her only hope to escape and now she could only wait for help. With a pained sigh, she sat back and waited.

***.*.*.*.***

"I cannot allow you before Theoden King so armed, Gandalf Greyhame, by order of Grima Wormtongue," The shorter guard, Hama, announced to them.

Aragorn spied Gandalf's permissive nod and began disarming. Legolas, Gimli, and Gandalf did the same. Legolas made a show of removing his knives and his bow, while Gimli handed one of the guards behind Gamling his ax, sharp edge first.

"I would like this back in the same condition as I have given it to you," Aragorn said seriously to Hama as he handed the man his prized sword.

Hama nodded, and then looked to Gandalf, "Your staff, Sir."

"Oh, you would not part an old man from his walking stick, surely?" Gandalf asked pitifully of the man. A complete play on his appearance, Aragorn figured. The wizard even went so far as to take Legolas' arm for support.

Hama did not look satisfied, but made no further comment. They were then motioned to enter the hall. The doors slammed shut behind them, the group of guards fanning out into the room. Aragorn spied two figures at the end of the hall. The slouched, decrepit figure in the throne could only by Theoden. The other man leaned over the throne's arm to whisper into Theoden's ear.

"The courtesy of your Hall has somewhat lessened as of late, Theoden King," Gandalf announced, still approaching the throne but now walking unassisted.

"He is not welcome," Grima ordered Theoden.

"Why should I welcome you, Gandalf Stormcrow?" Theoden's small voice resounded.

"A just question, my King," Grima prompted, moving to stand before Gandalf, "Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear. Ill news is an ill guest."

"Silence, snake! I did not pass through fire and death to exchange words with this vile pest!" Gandalf insulted, raising his staff from below his cloak.

Grima's eyes widened at the sight of the staff and he began backing away, "The staff, I told you to take the staff!"

The hall fell into chaos. The guards at the outskirts of the room moved forth to apprehend them while Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli held them off. In a few moves, they were all floored. Gimli knocked Grima to the floor with a backwards swing of his large arm, and stood watch over the cowering man.

Gandalf moved towards the throne, "Theoden, too long have you sat in the shadows, my friend. Hearken to me! I release you!" A strange wind blew through the hall at Gandalf's words. Everyone stood motionless, watching the happenings.

Theoden moved from his slumped position and let loose a dark, amused chuckle, "You have no power here, Gandalf the Grey."

Gandalf did not look amused. He grasped his gray cloak and whipped it away, revealing his sparkling white robes beneath. His very form radiated a white power, pinning Theoden to his throne.

"I will draw you, Saruman, as poison is drawn from a wound."

"If I go, Theoden dies!" a darker voice proclaimed from Theoden's lips.

"You did not kill me, you will not kill him!" Gandalf yelled.

"Rohan is mine!" Saruman's voice yelled strongly from Theoden's weak body.

Gandalf thrust his staff forward, pushing his power towards the possessed king. With a great gasp, Theoden slumped forward. The hall was silent, watching. Slowly, the withered face of the King became taught, the wrinkles now that of a middle-aged man. The gray, thinned hair became thick and golden. His body straightened and his eyes came to life.

A woman raced past all those gathered and knelt at Theoden's side. Her hand rose and cupped his cheek softly. Theoden gazed at her with a growing recognition and fondness.

"I know your face," the King whispered, "Eowyn, I have missed you, my child." He slowly stood and looked out at Gandalf.

"Breathe the free air again, my friend," Gandalf said gladly.

"Dark have been my dreams of late," Theoden commented.

"Your fingers would better remember their strength if they grasped your sword," Gandalf chimed.

Gamling strode forth and presented the ruler with his sword. Theoden looked at the weapon with wonder and purpose. His face filled with rage and his eyes roamed the room looking for Grima's unmistakable form. He spied the coward crawling away from the dwarf and towards a side hallway. Theoden began moving towards the fiend with dark intent written on his face. Behind him, Eowyn gasped and ran from the room as quickly as she had entered.

***.*.*.*.***

As the noise quieted, Cerin fearing the guards would soon return. Suddenly, Cerin heard rushed footsteps and she startled when her cell door was yanked open. Eowyn stood before her, backlit by the torches and breathing hard.

"Oh, Lady Cerin! My uncle has been saved just like you said! Come, we must get you out of this place," Eowyn said excitedly while moving to gently lift the injured woman from the ground. Eowyn untied Cerin's bonds and pulled her out of the cell.

"You have no idea how happy I am to see you, Lady Eowyn," Cerin said gratefully as they walked slowly from the dungeons, "Though I must look a fright."

Eowyn merely grimaced at her dirty and bloodied appearance, "We will get you clean and mended soon enough."

Soon enough they passed from the hallway into the great meeting hall. Cerin immediately focused on the Rohan King yelling at the rat Grima who was cowering in the hold of two guards.

Incensed, Cerin shook off Eowyn's helping hand and marched across the room ignoring everything around her. She walked right passed an enraged King, muttering an "Excuse me, my Lord," before swinging her right arm in a graceful arc and powerfully punching the coward across the face. Grima's face made a strange, loud crunch and whipped around. Crying out, his body staggered backwards in the guards' hold and somehow remained upright. Cerin relished the look of complete fear on his face, remembering her own fear as he touched her. The guards made no move to reprimand her and simply tightened their hold on Grima. Cerin moved her face close to his, ignoring the blood flowing from his nose.

"You will regret your actions against me and the people of Rohan, vermin," she spat hatefully Grima whined pitifully in pain.

"Cerin!"

She turned to see who had spoken, stepping away from the disgusting man.

***.*.*.*.***

Aragorn had watched as Theoden searched the room for who could only have been Grima Wormtongue. Having spied him across the room trying to escape through the side hall, Aragorn started moving for the man. Quickly, guards seized him before Aragorn had moved very far. Grima struggled for a very short time in their grip. As Theoden approached the traitor, the worm immediately started spouting words to pacify the enraged ruler. Aragorn watched as Theoden physically restrained himself from harming the creature in front of him and settled on berating him for his crimes. It was in the middle of his tirade that everyone froze in surprise as a vision of beauty and rage stormed past Theoden. The woman's somewhat dirty and bloodied gown and long brown hair flowed behind her as though it were caught in a breeze. She mumbled little more than a by your leave before striking Grima across the face in a powerful punch. The room's occupants watched as she physically assaulted the stunned coward and moved closer to his slumped form.

"You will regret your actions against me and the people of Rohan, vermin," she gritted out hatefully.

"Cerin!" Eowyn yelled, running for the woman.

The spell was broken and the room seemed to overcome their surprise. Aragorn now realized that this vengeful woman was, in fact, Cerin. He watched as her head turned in the shield maiden's direction, revealing a large purple bruise across her cheek.

***.*.*.*.***

"Cerin, what has gotten into you?" Eowyn gasped, shocked as she moved next to the scout.

"Eowyn, who is this woman?" Theoden's voice rang out.

Cerin turned towards the King and answered for the shield maiden. "I am Cerin. I served as a scout for Lord Elrond of the Last Homely House. I apologize for my actions in your house, I merely wished to repay him in kind," she said apologetically and gestured to her face and bloodied sleeve.

"Uncle, forgive her. She has been in the dungeons for nigh seven days," Eowyn pleaded.

Her words seemed to enrage the King even more, "Hama," Theoden called, "Get rid of this traitor."

It was at this moment that Cerin fully took in the occupants of the room. She was not surprised to spot Gandalf standing to the side of the room, but she was shocked to spy Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas standing next to the wizard. As she looked them over, she caught their surprised and concerned gazes lingering on her form. She forcibly tore her eyes from them and turned to face Eowyn and the King as they made for the door.

Cerin followed at the rear of the group as Hama and another soldier bodily dragged Wormtongue out of the Hall and tossed him down the long staircase. She watched, darkly satisfied as he fell end over end to the bottom. Villagers gathered to watch the spectacle.

"Please, my Liege, I have only ever served you!" Wormtongue groveled, slowly crawling backwards from the approaching, angry form of Theoden.

"You would have had me crawling on all fours like a beast!"

"Please, send me not from your sight, my Lord!"

Theoden swung the sword above his head ready to bring it into a downward thrust when Aragorn rushed forward, gripping the King's arm and stopping his action.

"No, my Lord, there has been enough blood spilt," the Ranger urged.

Grima took this hesitation to stagger to his feet and push his way through the crowd. There was a moment of silence from all gathered before everyone took a knee, bowing to the restored King.

"All hail Theoden King!" cried all.

Cerin stood as everyone filed past her back inside and watched the retreating figure of Wormtongue on horseback as he ventured out onto the plains. She could not shake the feeling that Aragorn's actions would haunt them. Finally, she turned and entered the hall.

Eowyn stood near her uncle and Gandalf. Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli took seats at one of the tables that littered the Hall. Cerin ignored them and their probing, curious looks and continued towards the King.

"Now, what is this news of you staying in the dungeons, my Lady?" Theoden asked, concerned.

"I was accused of treason, my Lord," Cerin stated simply, vaguely registering the lack of conversation from the tables.

"Treason? What was the cause for the charge?" he asked slightly suspiciously.

"I refused to bed the scum that is Wormtongue and advised him away from the Lady Eowyn and insulting your son. In his mind, that was a capital offense," Cerin explained and watched as the Man frowned deeply.

"Then I must apologize for your current state and for it occurring in my home," Theoden said sincerely.

"It is of no consequence, my Lord. I will heal and my dress can be washed, so do not fret," she said to the ruler.

"Good, you are free to stay as long as need be. Rest and heal, my girl," Theoden spoke, then asked of the room at large, "Now, where is my son?"

Cerin did not know the fate of Theodred because of her imprisonment, but she could tell by how Eowyn's face fell into deep sadness that he had not survived. She watched sadly as Eowyn approached the man and quietly told him the fate of his son. His face fell in grief and he paced from the room in silence.

After a few moments of quiet, Cerin spoke to Eowyn, "Lady Eowyn, if you would be so kind as to show me to the healers, I would like to tend to my injuries and prepare to leave on the morrow."

"Cerin – may I call you such? – I would be glad to show you to the healer's, but if I may once again be frank, I would ask that you stay until after my cousin has been laid to rest," Eowyn lightly grabbed Cerin's hand in a friendly manner, "I must admit that I have found a friend in you and I would much appreciate you staying in Edoras during this hard time."

Cerin placed the hand of her injured arm atop Eowyn's, "I too have enjoyed your company, Eowyn. I will stay, my friend."

Turning to the Wizard across the room who was watching her with a patient gaze, "If you would not mind, Gandalf, we may speak after I have been to see the healer."

"Do what you must, child," Gandalf waved her away.

Cerin started to follow Eowyn from the hall when Gimli's voice suddenly reached her.

"What's this about the dungeons, Lass?" Gimli asked loudly from his seat. Cerin paused in her stride but did not turn to face him or answer his question.

"Lass, answer me!" When she didn't respond and started forward again, he shouted, "Are you ignoring me, girl?"

***.*.*.*.***

The funeral for Theodred was long and heart-wrenching. Cerin could not bring herself to participate in the ceremony, for she had attended too many gatherings of this nature for her to bear. From a distance, she watched as the long procession filed from the city gates to the burial grounds, Theodred's body being carried at the fore. She watched as the tomb was sealed and words were said in remembrance. She listened in sadness and remembrance of her own pain as Eowyn's haunting song floated on the wind. The people of Edoras drifted away one by one, until it was only her, Gandalf, and Theoden who remained. She could not hear the men's conversation from her place above them, but still she lingered.

Cerin's clean dress rippled about her feet as she stood looking out at the plains of Rohan. The solitude was comforting to her. Her mind and body calmed. She could escape the din of the enlivened city, not worry about avoiding the Fellowship, and her worries for why there were so few of her former companions present. Her thoughts returned to the present at Gandalf's call. In the distance she spied an approaching horse and what could only be children atop it. One small being fell from the mount's back as she watched, which spurred her into motion. Cerin ran the distance to the horse, making soothing noises when it began to spook. The small girl still in the saddle patted the beast tiredly.

"Do not worry, you are safe child," Cerin soothed the young lad as she lifted him from the ground back into the saddle. He was too weary to hold himself upright, so Cerin mounted behind him and slowly motioned the horse towards the approaching wizard.

"They badly need food and rest. I will take them to Eowyn," Cerin said to him and continued into the city.

She left the horse at the stable and somehow carried both exhausted children into the hall. She sat them at a table near the center of the hall, ignoring the stares of the Fellowship as she had ignored them until that point. Cerin got them some of the prepared stew. She helped the boy sip the broth and cradled the young girl when she started asking for her mother. The boy remained silent the whole time. Before long, Eowyn arrived. They shared a look over the state of the children. Cerin looked on as Theoden and Gandalf entered and inquired about the children.

"It is as I saw in Isengard. Saruman has turned the Wildsmen to his crooked ways. Now they move through the Westfold burning as they go," Cerin spoke up, all eyes turning towards her.

"Rick, cot, and tree," Eowyn swore.

"This is but a small taste of Saruman's power. You must ride out and meet him head on. Draw him away from your women and children. You must fight," Gandalf implored Theoden.

"You have two thousand good men riding north as we speak. Eomer remains loyal to you. He and his men will return and fight for their King," Aragorn spoke seriously.

"They must be three hundred leagues away by now! Eomer cannot help us now," Theoden said, hopeless, "I know what it is you want me to do, Gandalf, but I will not bring further death to my people. I will not risk open war."

"Open war is upon you, whether you would risk it or not," Aragorn added. A large belch escaped Gimli then, though it was ignored for the tense conversation.

"When last I checked, Theoden, not Aragorn, was King of Rohan," Theoden said, angered.

"Then what is the King's decision?" Cerin asked quietly.

"We make for Helm's Deep."

***.*.*.*.***

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, nor any of the affiliated characters. I only own Cerin (my OC). Any references to the books or movie are acknowledged. Any infringement on my part is purely accidental and unintended.

***.*.*.*.***

Chapter 11:

Battles Big and Small

***.*.*.*.***

Cerin could not help but feel as though Aragorn was slightly at fault for such a course of events. Were it not for his stopping Theoden's hand in the death of Grima, they would not have had to worry about the traitor sharing his knowledge with Saruman. Grima knew everything of the capital; the weaknesses, the strategies, the exit routes, etc. Should Saruman gain Grima's knowledge, Edoras was doomed. Had Aragorn let things be and not meddled, Grima would be a rotting pile somewhere and not riding to join the enemy.

Theoden's voice still rang loudly in Cerin's ears. His decision was made on his people's behalf, for their safety, yet it could be their damnation. They were placing their hopes in a fortress surrounded by mountainsides. They would be cornered and cut off from aid should any come for them. The Enemy could be the one to see Helms Deep fall, whether by frontal assault or by stalling the battle long enough that they all starved. Neither of Theoden's options, to stay or to go, were appealing, but he had chosen the one that was the least. The Man would not be swayed, no matter who beseeched him to reconsider.

She considered all of this in a contemplative silence while seated besides the children. She vaguely registered Eowyn doling out second helpings into their now empty bowls. The quiet that had filled the hall after Theoden's declaration and prompt exit was neither oppressive nor comforting. Cerin appreciated its ambiguity and was loathed to break it.

"Where is Mama? She promised she would find us," the little girl asked again suddenly. Her question broke through the silence in the room.

"Hush, child," Cerin whispered. Her hand reached to smooth the messy curls from the girl's face. She met the child's gaze for a long while. Oh, how Cerin wished to hide the hard truth from this girl who could be no more than eight summers, but she could not hide the sadness from her eyes. Showing understanding beyond her years, the child read the look in the woman's gaze and the meaning behind it. Tears began to run down her flushed cheeks, and she fell into Cerin's comforting arms with a strangled sob.

"She's not coming back, is she?" her wet voice asked.

"No, your mother is not coming back, my sweet child," Cerin whispered back. She tightened her embrace and looked up to meet the gaze of the older boy. The resigned expression upon his face disturbed the woman. Lifting one arm, she gestured for him to join their embrace. He did not hesitate in moving towards them, and almost immediately his shoulders started shaking in quiet sobs. They quieted soon enough and slumped tiredly against her.

"Come children, you need your rest," Eowyn said kindly and escorted them away to a room to sleep.

"Lass!"

Cerin's shoulders slumped marginally at the boisterous call. She was in no mood to confront that particular situation in that moment, but she really had no say when it came to the Dwarf.

"That was quite kind of you, Cerin," Legolas intoned before Gimli chanced to speak again.

"I only acted in a way that I should hope someone would do for me," she said matter of factly, brushing aside the comment.

"I offered a small balm to ease their grief," she continued softly.

"Hmm, how are you healing, Cerin?" Aragorn asked after taking a puff from his pipe.

"That is no wee injury, Lass," Gimli said gruffly, masking his concern with brusqueness, and pointed to her bandaged arm.

"I have had worse injuries," she said simply, choosing not to give further explanation, "Pardon me, but I must pack."

With that, she stood from the bench seat at the table and turned to leave, her skirts swishing behind her.

"Are you curious for news of the rest of the fellowship?" Aragorn asked from behind her.

Cerin paused and turned to face him. "I had wondered but did not think to ask. I figured you would think that information too dangerous for my ears considering the circumstances. As it is such, the fellowship is no longer my business," she said bluntly with a tinge of bitterness coloring her words.

The three across from her seemed to almost flinch at her words and the truth in them.

"I will admit that we were too hasty in our judgment of you," Legolas said truthfully, his striking blue eyes gazing at her imploringly.

Cerin's mind was silent at the Elf's words. She simply stared at him, meeting his gaze, until the words were comprehended. Her soft chuckle rang throughout the Hall. When she noticed the bewildered faces of those around her, she saw fit to explain her reaction.

"Ah, Legolas, your reaction was nothing more than what I had expected of anyone who discovered that news," she said sadly, a bitter smile adorning her pale face.

"I need to pack," she said again, shaking her head, and walked from the hall.

***.*.*.*.***

"You will not be able to avoid the fellowship forever, my dear," Gandalf's voice rang out

Startled, Cerin turned to see the Istari standing in the doorway of her room. As he moved further into the room, she turned back to the small table and resumed placing items into her pack.

"I am aware of that, Gandalf," she said lowly. The wizard remained quiet, recognizing that she had more on her mind.

"When I saw them again," she said slowly, speculatively, "I still felt anger and bitterness. All negative emotions, you see. I had always expected the fellowship to react the way they did. I considered no other possible reactions for anyone who might become privy to that knowledge. But, as I spoke to them, I realized that they had reacted the way any other person would have, so I could not truly fault them for how they felt."

She paused, staring at her hands as they held her pack. "Yet, I still feel hurt," she softly intoned to the silent wizard, her voice choking with emotion, "I am Sauron's heir, but I do not want to be. No one seems to realize that."

"My girl, I believe that in times of war like these we can easily forget ourselves, get lost in the darkness as it were. It is easy to see a threat in nothing nowadays, and I think the fellowship has finally seen that there is no threat in you," Gandalf reasoned gently.

"Even if they have recanted their feelings towards me, Gandalf, they cannot possibly expect me to act as though nothing has changed between us, can they?" she asked incredulously.

"I do not know their thoughts on this matter, but regardless of the current status of your friendship, we are still at war," he said seriously, "You still have a purpose in this fight no matter who your allies are, Cerin. Now, gather your things and meet me at the stables shortly."

She nodded in understanding and watched as he exited her room, his white robes swishing behind him.

***.*.*.*.***

The orders to evacuate the city had been given and a growing feeling of fear had already taken hold. The inhabitants were rushing about, busy deciding what to take with them and to leave of their home and possessions. Soldiers were scattered about Edoras assisting the people in preparations. Cerin took all of this in as she waded through the throng to the stables.

The stables were empty when Cerin arrived, so she set about tacking up Greatheart and attaching her pack behind his saddle. Once done, she merely waited for Gandalf. Softly stroking Greatheart's face, she wandered in her thoughts and listened to the commotion occurring outside all about the city. Sounds of shouts and distant crying permeated the stillness in the stables.

After a while, she vaguely registered familiar voices amongst the chaos. Shortly, Gandalf, Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas entered and looked to be in a serious discussion. So deep were they in their discussion, they did not see Cerin in her place at the far stall. They stopped outside Shadowfax's stall and continued speaking.

"Helms Deep! They flee to the mountains when they should stand and fight!" Gimli said hotly, "Who will defend them if not their King?"

"He is only doing what he thinks is best for his people. Helms Deep has saved them in the past," Aragorn said reasonably.

"There is no way out of that ravine. Theoden is walking into a trap. He thinks he is leading them to safety. What they will get is a massacre," Gandalf said gravely, "Theoden has a strong will, but I fear for him and the survival of Rohan. He will need you before the end. The people of Rohan will need you, Aragorn. Their defenses have to hold."

"They will hold," Aragorn promised, his voice just as grave. The wizard entered the stall and patted the great horse's muzzle.

"You wished to see me, Gandalf?" Cerin finally spoke up.

They all turned to see who had spoken. They spotted her approaching from the back of the stables and leading a fully tacked Greatheart behind her. She had changed into a royal blue fitted tunic and brown leggings, which were slightly worn looking but new to her ownership. Her blade hung from her hip and her bow lay across her shoulders over her cloak. Her hair hung down her back in a long plait with the elvish customary braids at her temples. Her appearance was not a strange sight for those who knew her, but it was a large contrast to the gowns they had recently seen her in. Her expression was questioning as she waited for an answer.

"Ah, Cerin, I would like for you to accompany the caravan to the fortress. I have reason to believe someone of your skill will be needed," Gandalf told her.

"Are you sure that is wise, Gandalf?" she asked, uncertain, and pointed to her face, "We can all see the results of your last plan for me."

"I had not counted on your injury, which is unfortunate, but you will travel to Helms Deep, Cerin. You will be more useful there than in whichever backwater town you planned to visit," the wizard chastised sternly.

Cerin lightly flushed in embarrassment and nodded, "I will go."

"Good," Gandalf mounted Shadowfax, "Look for my coming on the fifth day. At dawn, look to the east."

"Go," Aragorn ordered and moved away as Shadowfax ran past and out of the stables. A tense silence fell over them after Gandalf's departure.

Abruptly, Gimli huffed lightly, "Well, it will be just like old times, Lass."

Cerin looked at the dwarf across from her, not returning the happy expression. "No, I do not think it will be, Gimli."

She watched guiltily as his face fell at her words but she did not show it outwardly. She tugged Greatheart's reins and started walking towards the exit.

"You are a member of the fellowship again, Cerin," Aragorn stated from his place behind her.

Cerin paused in her stride and turned to look at him, "Aye, I am aware."

"I am glad you are back, Cerin. You were missed," Legolas said in his musical voice.

"Hmph," Gimli huffed, nodding towards Legolas, "What he said, Lass."

She stared intensely into each of their faces for a long while, judging the truth of their words. Eventually, a small smile crept onto her face, which was answered by the grins of the men.

"Now, would you like to hear news of your companions?" Aragorn asked her.

"I would," she nodded, "But let us talk as we travel. We must pass the time somehow."

***.*.*.*.***

Atop Greatheart's back, Cerin was afforded a view of the long line of people both ahead of her and behind. Horses pulled carts full of food and possessions. Others carried all that they could from their homes. Soldiers rode scattered along the procession as guards. The chatter around her was light, but there was still an oppressive weight of worry hanging over them all. They had been on the move for only a few hours, but she could see some beginning to tire. Cerin felt sorry for these people of Rohan. The elderly and the young could hardly be expected to physically handle this trip, yet they had no choice.

Beside her rode Aragorn. Legolas had Gimli behind him on his mount and had gone further up the line. Finally, Cerin could wait no longer and asked Aragorn the question that had not left her mind since she first spotted the fellowship again.

"Aragorn, what has become of everyone?" she asked hesitantly.

Aragorn was quiet for a few moments before looking towards her with a solemn expression. "Boromir," he paused, "was felled, Cerin, by uruk hai near the Falls of Rauros."

She stared straight ahead with a blank gaze for a couple minutes. "And what of the hobbits?" she breathed, still shocked.

"Merry and Pippin were captured by the uruks and were almost to Isengard before soldiers of the Ridermark disposed of them. They are safe now with the ents in Fangorn forest," he paused, "Frodo and Sam are making their way to Mordor alone."

"Alone? How could they possibly…?" she trailed off, stunned.

"I let them go," Aragorn said simply and looked into her face for understanding.

"Then I…I can only hope for their safe passage and success," she said quietly and gazed about forlornly.

"Cerin, I promised Frodo to give you a message should I ever meet you again," he watched as she turned to him looking somewhat lost, "He said that he is sorry for his harsh words against you and that you are a sister to him in his heart."

He watched as she nodded succinctly and looked forward again. He politely ignored the welling of water in her eyes that she valiantly refused to let fall.

***.*.*.*.***

Aragorn had ridden for hours beside his female companion. He tried to offer support and understanding through his silent and constant presence beside her. He had not tried to engage her in conversation since he had told her of their friends, just as she had not tried to speak with anyone.

Eowyn had approached a while ago and was walking beside the two quiet figures. Aragorn had once noticed she was going to attempt to speak with Cerin, but he warned her against it. It would be best to let the woman work through this. Eowyn had taken to talking with him to while away the time. He answered her questions of places he had been and things he had witnessed. She had a great curiosity for the world, that woman did. It was her next question that took him aback.

"Who is she, the woman who gave you that jewel?" Eowyn asked curiously and gestured to the beautiful silver jewel of starlight that hung around his neck.

He paused at this and remembered the giver of that particular gift.

***.*.*.*.***

_Flashback_

"_You must go with your people and sail to the Undying Lands. You will have a chance at a life without grief and despair," he told the beautiful and caring elf maiden before him._

"_Why are you saying this, Aragorn?" Arwen gasped._

"_I am mortal, and you are elf-kind. It would only end in pain. It was a dream and nothing more," he told her with great pain in his eyes. He extended his hand to her in which he held her necklace with the light of the Evenstar._

_She stared at him for a long while, her face falling further with every second passing. Finally, she grasped that it was the end._

"_It was a gift. Keep it," she told him softly and closed his fist around the necklace. She stepped forward and placed a parting kiss upon his lips. Arwen withdrew and turned swiftly from him. Aragorn could only watch as she left, and he was the reason for it._

_End Flashback_

***.*.*.*.***

"Aragorn, are you quite alright?" Eowyn asked concernedly, shaking him from his reverie.

"I am fine… She is sailing to the Undying Lands with her people. She is leaving these dark times," he said lowly.

Eowyn might have read his expression for a growing dark mood and reigned in her curious questions. She took to walking silently beside them before she left to assist elsewhere. Aragorn relished the silence and remained pensive alongside Cerin for the rest of the day.

***.*.*.*.***

After many tiresome hours, the sun finally fell below the horizon and camp was established. Fires were lit for warmth. The orange glows could be seen scattered amongst the darkness up and down the plain. Sounds of people settling in for the night filled the air. Cerin settled before a fire after rubbing Greatheart down from the long journey. Gimli, Legolas, and Aragorn soon joined her. Weariness from the long day could be seen on all of their faces except Legolas'. They were engaged in light conversation when Eowyn approached carrying a large pot and ladle.

"I have made some stew if you are hungry," she offered, and lifted the pot in her hands as if for proof.

"I would love some, thank you, Eowyn," Cerin said and retrieved her small bowl. Eowyn doled some of her stew into Cerin's bowl and looked to the others for their decisions.

"Bring that over here, lassie. This growing dwarf never turns down the offer of food," he chortled.

"Growing in which direction, Gimli?" Legolas asked with a false innocence.

Everyone broke into soft laughter at the elf's comment. Gimli simply snorted and turned away from the elf. Aragorn also accepted some of the food, but Legolas politely declined. Eowyn watched as Gimli dug straight into his portion before offering wishes of enjoyment and moving onto the next fire. Cerin and Aragorn began eating and almost immediately put their spoons down with matching grimaces on their faces.

"How can you eat that, Gimli?" Cerina asked incredulously.

Gimli paused in his eating and looked up at the woman with an extremely perplexed look about him. "Wha' are you talkin' about, girl? There's nothing wrong with this," he asked as though she were slow in the head.

"Pardon me," she murmured sarcastically and pushed her bowl further away.

"I would rather go hungry, I think," Aragorn said lowly. Cerin nodded in agreement.

Shortly after Gimli finished his meal, he slumped on the ground near the fire and fell asleep. His snores filled the night with their sound. Legolas left soon afterwards saying he would scout the area. Cerin and Aragorn were left alone, both staring into the intense orange glow of the fire. They were both silent, leaving the other alone to their thoughts.

"You should get some rest," Aragorn suddenly said in his deep voice.

"I think you say that to me too often," Cerin chuckled, then quieted, "It matters not for I have too much on my mind to rest."

"Tell me Boromir fought bravely," she asked imploringly some minutes later.

"To the death," Aragorn responded lowly and met her gaze, "He tried to take the Ring from Frodo, but he was himself when he met his end."

"That is a small comfort," she said breathily, "I have always feared he would try to take the Ring, but I am glad that he came to his senses before his death." She was silent for several moments.

"I think I will rest now. Thank you, Aragorn, you have soothed my worries. Should you ever need to share yours, I will be there to listen."

Cerin stood and walked to her bedroll, passing just behind the Ranger. She clasped the Man's shoulder in camaraderie and understanding before moving to lie in her bed. She fell asleep to the beautiful mosaic of stars above her and to the sounds of crackling logs on the fire and Gimli's snores.

***.*.*.*.***

The caravan set out just after dawn and made slow progress towards its goal. This day saw Gimli riding alone next to Cerin and Aragorn. Hours after leaving camp, Eowyn again fell back to walk beside the fellowship. Aragorn was thankful that this time she turned her curiosity onto Gimli instead of himself.

"May I ask you a question, Master Dwarf?" Eowyn asked as she walked beside him while he rode.

"Of course, my Lady! Ask me any question you wish," Gimli said good-spiritedly.

"Well, I have wondered why dwarf women are never mentioned," she said questioningly.

"It's true you don't see too many dwarf women. In fact, they are so alike in voice and appearance that are often mistaken for dwarf men. Nowadays, people seem to think we just pop out of the ground!" he said loudly and incredulously, "Which is ridiculous!"

Cerin and Eowyn laughed gaily at his words. Eowyn looked back towards Aragorn with a questioning look at the dwarf's answer while still chuckling. Cerin spotted Aragorn mime a long beard on his face with his hand and mouth back to her, "It's the beards." Eowyn laughed loudly again, and Cerin joined her, chuckling at the absurdity of it. Just then, Gimli's mount reared and took off. The dwarf's lack of riding skills was seen as he promptly fell from the saddle with a loud thump.

"Oh my," Eowyn exclaimed and ran after the stalwart dwarf. She reached him quickly and helped him sit up.

"I'm alright. No one panic! It was deliberate. It was deliberate," Gimli shouted to everyone around him. Eowyn giggled at his exclamation and looked back towards Aragorn and Cerin with a wide grin.

"He purposely fell from the horse?" Cerin sarcastically asked Aragorn. He turned to her with an amused smile and caught her twinkling gaze. They shared another laugh before halting next to the grounded figure and the Lady.

"Come now, Gimli, time to get back in the saddle as they say," Cerin said amusedly.

"Hmph, dwarves aren't meant to ride horses! We're meant to be low to the ground. That's why we're so short," Gimli protested.

"So you're walking then?" Cerin asked while fighting a smile. Gimli just snorted and started walking away, leaving Eowyn holding his horse's lead. Cerin shared a look with Eowyn and began moving forward again.

Things were peaceful for a good while after Gimli's fall until there were shouts at the front of the procession. Cerin and Aragorn immediately spurred their horses into a gallop. Cerin halted at the front while Aragorn continued on past. They both spied Legolas' figure running back towards them.

"Legolas, what is the matter?" Aragorn shouted to the elf.

"A scout!" He shouted back. Aragorn turned his horse around sharply and ran back to the caravan.

"What is it?" Theoden yelled to him.

"Wargs! We're under attack!" he shouted back.

His words ignited a panic. Screams and cries filled the air as people fell out of formation to run away. Theoden took action by shouting orders for all riders to stay behind and for everyone else to make their way to Helms Deep. Cerin saw Gimli attempting to mount his horse with little success and Eowyn was trying to rally the people.

"Eowyn, lead the people to Helms Deep and make haste!" Theoden yelled to her.

"But I can fight, Uncle!" She yelled back.

"No, you must do this, for me," he pleaded, now closer to her. Eowyn turned pleading eyes onto Cerin who could do naught but shake her head sadly.

"They need you more at this moment. You will do Rohan no good should you die, my friend," Cerin reasoned.

"I will not speak of the stupidity of your statement at this time nor on how it applies to you as well," she said angrily and strode away quickly, yelling for everyone to get to lower ground and to stay together.

Theoden looked at Cerin gratefully, but she could not bring herself to hold his gaze because of the guilt she felt at denying Eowyn. Soon riders surrounded Theoden and he called for them to go forth. At once, those gathered kicked their horses into motion. They galloped over the rolling green hill to the party of wargs they knew were coming.

As they came over the top of the hill they passed Legolas who was firing preemptive arrows at the great running beasts headed towards them. Legolas jumped up behind Gimli as he rode past. Cerin took in the images of the enemy as they rode. The wolves of Isengard were large beasts, standing the height of a Man with shaggy fur of a dirty brown color. They bared teeth the size of small daggers every time they growled. The orcs were just like all those she had encountered before that moment. Their greasy, ink black skin glistened in the sun. Their faces had pointed elf-like ears and gruesome smiles with sharp pointed teeth. She noticed all of this in an instant, which was the amount of time before their opposing forces were to meet. With swords and spears raised, they ran straight into the line of wargs and their riders. A great clash sounded at their meeting. Arrows, spears, and blades flew true as they skewered wargs and orcs alike. The orcs were easiest to reach with a blade from horseback. The wargs continued attacking despite being without riders.

Gimli fell off his mount soon after they battle started, again landing on the ground with a loud thump. Legolas continued on with only a glance behind him at the dwarf. A warg soon spotted the short figure of Gimli, who raised his axe in preparation.

"Hah, bring your pretty face to my axe!" he shouted to the beast. The warg began to lope forward at his words. It was almost before Gimli, who was ready to swing, when it fell over with a groan. Legolas then rode past while loading another arrow into his bow.

"That one counts as mine!" Gimli shouted after the elf before turning to find his next foe.

Cerin stayed atop Greatheart as long as she could. She swung and stabbed her blade, killing both orcs and wargs. She gave a brutal thrust to the chest of a screeching orc and turned, pulling her blade from the body and spraying black blood behind her. With another strong stab, she killed the snarling wolf of Isengard. She swung Greatheart around and spotted a warg leap up nearly the height of a Man and knock Aragorn from his saddle. She turned her eyes away as she, too, was knocked from the saddle. She groaned as her body forcefully impacted the ground. Looking up, she swung her leg around and floored the orc approaching her. She quickly gained her feet and ran it through. Her gaze roamed the battle looking for the fellowship. She saw Legolas and Gimli holding their own a good distance from her. But Aragorn, she started, he was dueling an orc atop a warg! She started running towards him once she saw him fall and hang from the crude saddle. He swung his arm upwards and imbedded his dagger into the orc's chest. The creature fell sideways off the warg, but Aragorn did not let go. Cerin watched as the warg kept running with the Ranger hanging from its side.

"Let go, Aragorn!" Cerin shouted, running to intercept the wolf.

"I'm stuck!" he yelled back, frustrated.

Cerin stopped right in the path of the running warg and raised her blade. Aragorn looked up and yelled her name. Cerin swung and struck the hound, which gave a loud whine, but its momentum was too great. The warg fell forward into Cerin, knocking her backwards. The beast continued over the cliff, bringing Cerin and Aragorn with it.

***.*.*.*.***

The battle soon ended, but not without casualties. Men walked around looking for wounded and counting the dead. Others checked for any of the enemy that may still be alive. Gimli relished in this task. He swung his heavy axe at creatures that were both barely alive and long dead, offering insults at their passing. Once done, he looked around him for his companions.

"Aragorn?" Legolas yelled from behind the dwarf.

Not seeing his friends he became worried, "Aragorn? Cerin?"

There was a loud neigh to the side of those gathered. They both turned and spotted Greatheart nervously stamping his feet and tossing his head. Legolas approached the animal and grabbed the limp reins.

Running a soothing hand down the horse's neck, he looked to Gimli, "She would not leave him like this, Gimli."

A gargled cackled soon reached their ears, alerting them to a dying orc near the cliff side. Dwarf and elf both moved to the ugly creature. Gimli promptly shoved his axe near its face.

"Tell me what you know, and I may ease your passing!" he ordered angrily.

"They're dead," it cackled wetly, blood dribbling from its lips, "Took a nice tumble over the cliff, they did!"

"You lie!" Legolas shouted and landed a good kick to its ribs. The thing merely laughed loudly before it abruptly stopped and slumped over dead.

Legolas ran to the edge of the cliff and gazed downwards. The sight of a jagged rock face and a raging river met his eyes. It was an impossible situation to survive, but he could not accept that they were gone. He felt someone approach, and watched as Theoden stopped beside him and looked over the edge. After a moment, he turned around and spoke to his subordinate.

"Get the wounded on horses. The wolves of Isengard will return. Leave the dead."

Legolas looked at the King disbelievingly. Theoden looked back at him with a sad gaze and grasped the elf's shoulder in comfort.

"Come, we must leave," Theoden said quietly. With that, he walked away from the cliff's edge. Legolas and Gimli remained motionless and stared at the quick-running river below them with a forlorn expression.

***.*.*.*.***

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, nor any of the affiliated characters. I only own Cerin (my OC). Any references to the books or movies are acknowledged. Any infringement on my part is purely accidental and unintended.

***.*.*.*.***

Chapter 12:

Find Your Way

***.*.*.*.***

Legolas and Gimli eventually moved from the cliff's edge. All around wounded were being helped onto every available horse. With solemn faces, the pair mounted their horse, with Gimli again behind Legolas. Legolas watched as Greatheart refused any other rider apart from his mistress. He pranced about and even reared when a soldier tried to help a wounded man into the saddle. The elf was forced to tie Greatheart's lead to his saddle horn and have him follow along behind him.

The wounded party made slow progress across the land. Conversation was at a minimum among the men. Many were in too much pain to care any for speaking. Others, like Legolas and Gimli, were distracted by grief over fallen friends. For half a day's journey they endured this tense atmosphere. A sort of numbness had filled Legolas' heart in that time. He could not bring himself to experience the same relief felt by those traveling with him as they finally crested the large hill and spotted Helms Deep in the distance.

It was a spectacular sight to be sure. Flat plains ran into a steep ravine with sharp, jagged rocks lining the almost vertical walls. The ravine was shaped like a mouth of a river, and at the furthest point from the entrance was nestled the looming fortress of Helms Deep. A large keep was protected by an outer stone wall of unimaginable thickness. A sloping causeway ran from the ravine floor up to the top of the outer wall and met the wall of the keep. Great wooden doors barred entrance to any who were not welcome.

As they plodded up the causeway, Legolas took in the weathered look of the stones. This place had seen battle. It said something for its strength for it to still be standing. But, for every victory this fortress had seen it had also seen death and sadness, just as they did on this day. This victory was tainted for Gimli and Legolas.

They watched as the large wooden doors at the keep's entrance swung open. Cries went up that the King had returned and to make way for Theoden. People who had been filling the walkway moved to line the walls and made way for the returning fighters. Upon entrance to the circular keep, the path split into left and right stairways that curved around and upwards to the next level. They turned to the left and climbed to the main level of the keep. People cleared a large circle and they all halted when they reached it. Legolas dismounted and assisted Gimli from his perch. In observing the mess of people and supplies all around them, the elf spied a head of blond hair rushing through the crowd in their direction. Lady Eowyn broke from the crowd and moved to the King.

"So few have returned," she gasped.

"We won this day, but we paid for it with many lives," Theoden answered and turned to move into the inner keep while giving orders to move all the forces inside the walls and the women and children into the caves. Someone distantly asked if he wanted to post a watch on the perimeter.

Eowyn turned and spied the last two of the fellowship. She approached and looked around them questioningly, "Where are Lord Aragorn and Cerin?"

Legolas could not bring himself to answer her and turned his face away. Gimli, the noble dwarf, stepped forward and clutched his axe to his chest. Eowyn looked to him at his approach. Her face fell as she took in his expression and Legolas' avoidance.

"My Lady, they fell," he said quietly. His whole body slumped in defeat at his own words.

Eowyn gave a great gasp and stared disbelievingly at the dwarf before her. Legolas turned and led the two steeds away with head bowed in grief.

"It cannot be," she whispered.

***.*.*.*.***

Vaguely, Cerin registered the feeling of floating. It felt close to what she pictured a cloud would feel like. Light flashed across her eyelids making her world orange. She gave a passing thought to the pleasantness of the warmth on her face. She relished these light sensations as she slipped again from consciousness.

Her next awakening was not so pleasant. As she came to her senses, she noticed the pain first. Her whole body sported a bone-deep ache and weariness so great it went unmatched in her life's experience. She could not find the strength to even open her eyes. Her body felt as though a boulder had landed on her, or maybe stomped on by a stampede of horses. She shivered as a breeze passed by. It was then she realized that her clothes were damp and that her feet felt like they were still in the water. Cold and aching, she let loose a low groan as she tried again to open her heavy eyelids. With a great effort, she pealed her eyes open and was immediately blinded by sunlight. Cerin winced at the light, but even wincing hurt. Slowly, she blinked several times to get used to the light.

Tolerant of the light now, Cerin opened her eyes fully and looked straight up into a horse's mouth. She stared blankly at the horse standing over her and simply watched as it snorted, the warm air passing over her face. Its head lowered further and lightly nudged her face before it stood fully and moved to her left. Cerin turned her face to follow its movement and caught sight of a rumpled and lifeless male form many feet from her. Recognition was slow in coming, but eventually it registered in her fatigued mind that the man was Aragorn. A sense of urgency filled her then and she knew she needed to move to him. Steeling herself as best she could against the pain, she forced her body to roll from its supine position onto her side and then her stomach. The air rushed from her lungs with each movement. Painfully, she pulled her arms up under her body and tried to lift herself. It took several attempts before she was able to begin crawling over the rocky riverbank, and even then she was moving at a snail's pace.

After what seemed like an eternity to Cerin, she was within a few feet of Aragorn. Her worry lessened only somewhat once she saw his chest rise and fall with each breath. She gathered the rest of her energy and forced her body to move those last few feet. Once she was right beside him, she collapsed, body spent. She looked him over as she laid there. He was laying on his right side and facing her. He had a good gash on his upper left arm and various scrapes. Those seemed to be his only injuries, thankfully. She barely lifted from the ground on her left arm and shoved him onto his back with her right, but mid-motion her planted arm gave way, causing her to fall with him. She landed sprawled across his chest with no energy to move away. Aragorn merely groaned at the movement and the added weight atop his chest. Cerin watched his face for signs of awakening as she slowly stretched a tired arm upwards and lightly patted his cheek. He showed no outward change, so she patted his cheek again with a bit more force this time. He gave no response to this either, so Cerin resorted to practically slapping him. The motion was more of her lifting her arm and letting it fall with her hand landing on his face than a true slap. Her effort was not in vain this time for he groaned loudly and his face scrunched up in a wince. He awoke nearly as slowly as Cerin did, but after a small while he blinked his eyes open. He face held a look of pain as he first looked up at the cloudless sky and then down at his body, or what was on it. Surprise briefly replaced pain in his eyes as he took in Cerin laid out on his chest. She could only look slightly sheepish at the unseemliness of her position.

"Hello," Aragorn said lowly, trying to draw breath.

"I believe we are in a spot of trouble," Cerin said quietly.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, concerned.

Cerin shook her head, saying, "No more than you, I think," and then looked up in surprise as the horse that had stood grazing up until that point had moved next to them. They both watched as he turned and carefully knelt down beside their prone forms so as to present his back for them to climb on.

"You are a noble horse, Brego, to have found us," Aragorn said to the animal as Cerin grasped his mane and tiredly pulled herself atop his back.

Once seated, she turned and offered a hand to Aragorn who had rolled onto his side and was trying to lift himself. After a time, Aragorn managed to perch himself behind Cerin and Brego made to stand. It was a jerky motion that forced Aragorn to wrap his arms around Cerin's waist to keep from falling. Now ready to make way, Cerin realized she did not know exactly which direction to head.

"Which way do we go, Aragorn? We have no way of knowing how far we drifted downstream," she asked over her shoulder.

"The river Snowbourn runs northwest and connects with the main river. If we follow it upstream and then travel alongside the mountains, we will reach Helms Deep," he said quietly, trying not to lean too heavily against Cerin's back.

Cerin nodded at his words and nudged Brego with her heels into a slow run along the river. Both shivered as the wind whipped at their wet forms. It would take a good while before they both dried out completely. They travelled upstream until early afternoon before they spotted the river's source at the base of a mountain. Cerin took in the sight of the mountain standing tall before her in the far distance and pulled Brego to the north. She kept the pace at a fast walk, fearing a fall at high speed was a good possibility with the level of fatigue she and Aragorn both felt. She had felt him nodding off and slumping against her back several times. She could not say that she did not wish to do the same. Her eyes had closed many times in refusal to remain open and her body begged for rest, but they could not stop traveling.

It was only a few hours after turning from the river that they came upon something startling. They had just rounded a large rock formation when Cerin sharply pulled Brego to a halt. The movement jerked Aragorn awake from against her back.

"What is the matter?" he asked, voice rough from sleep and tiredness.

"Look," she whispered in a disturbed voice and pointed out in the distance.

Aragorn straightened and peered over her shoulder to where she pointed. There in the distance was a sea of black. Gone was the green of the Rohan plains. Blackness covered the ground both far and wide. It was an army of orcs and uruk hai at least ten thousand strong marching through Rohan.

"They come from Isengard," Cerin muttered.

"And make for Helms Deep. We must make haste," Aragorn said urgently. He took the reins from Cerin's hands and pushed Brego into a gallop.

Aragorn guided the horse back along the way they had come and around, making a semicircle to avoid the Enemy's forces. Cerin had fought to stay awake for as long as she could, but now that Aragorn was in control, she could not keep her eyes from closing. Eventually, she gave up the fight and fell into dreams with the wind whipping at her face.

***.*.*.*.***

Aragorn was still tired beyond comprehension, but they greatly needed to arrive at Helms Deep as soon as possible to give warning of the coming foe. He steeled himself for the long ride ahead of them and guided Brego over the rolling hills of Rohan. After some time, he was broken from his wandering thoughts and worries by Cerin slumping against his chest. Her head fell back onto his shoulder with her face nestled in the crook of his neck. He felt a warm puff of air on his neck with every breath she expelled. Knowing that she had fallen asleep, he kept one arm on the reins and raised the other to just below her bosom and tightened his grip around her to keep her from falling. Aragorn was quietly impressed and glad that she had lasted as long as she had otherwise they may not have covered so much distance. And so they traveled; Aragorn fighting to remain awake at the reins with Cerin asleep in his arms.

After crossing a good distance, Aragorn realized that they were almost upon the ravine that held their goal. This was a good sign for the sun was beginning to near the horizon. He had feared not reaching their destination before dusk. They would have had to make camp on the plains, which offered few options for shelter and food. But, as it was, they were making good time.

Aragorn came out of the daze he had been in and became more alert as they grew closer to where he knew Helms Deep to be. He directed Brego across the last of the open plain and to the bottom of a steep hill. Aragorn kept his tight hold on Cerin and on the reins as Brego climbed. As they crested the hill, Aragorn was met with the glorious sight of Helms Deep. He halted the horse and gently shook Cerin. She let out a low groan and buried her head deeper into Aragorn's neck. He was loathed to wake her from her much-needed rest, but he had need to.

"You must wake, Cerin. We have arrived," he spoke quietly and lightly shook her again.

He heard her groan again and felt the light tickling of her eyelashes against his skin as she opened her eyes. She was slow to wake and take in the outside world. He watched as she became alert and sat up from her slumped position. She looked at him questioningly, to which he pointed into the distance before them.

***.*.*.*.***

Cerin was reluctantly pulled from her dreams. Thoughts were again slow to come to her as she lifted from the deepness of sleep. She was warm and rested against something soft, she realized. She blinked her eyes open and saw skin. Sitting up, she realized she had been asleep against Aragorn, who was now looking down at her expectantly. Confused, she merely looked at him. He responded by pointing in front of her. She turned and spotted the stone fortress in the distance. It appeared they had finally arrived.

"You have done well, Brego, my friend," Cerin praised and leaned forward to pat his neck lovingly.

Aragorn spurred Brego into motion after her words. They descended the hill and galloped across the remaining distance to the Deep. She spied guards moving along the armaments and watching their approach. Brego's hooves made clapping sounds against the stone as they climbed the causeway to the large wooden doors of the entrance, which opened as they neared. They rode into the fort and encountered people scattered all around, staring and gasping in awe. Shouts announcing their return filled the fort. The people parted like a grassy plain faced with a strong wind. Aragorn turned Brego to the stairway at the left and climbed to the next level. A circle was made around the horse as they halted and a soldier approached to take hold of Brego's lead. Aragorn slid from atop Brego and turned to Cerin. He lifted his arms and assisted her down. Both could see the fatigue and weariness in the other's face and stance. They turned from each other as loud grumbling met their ears. Soon enough, Gimli emerged from the crowd gathered around them.

"Where are they? Where are they? I'm gonna kill 'em!" he shouted. Upon spotting them, his voice returned to a normal level.

"You are the luckiest, canniest, most reckless pair I've ever known," he scolded them before throwing his arms around both of their waists, "Bless you! Bless you!"

Cerin patted his back with affection and offered a small smile. Gimli finally released his embrace and stepped back, looking into their now somber faces.

"Gimli, where is the King?" Aragorn asked seriously.

Gimli took in his expression and simply nodded towards the inner keep. She and Aragorn both turned to head in that direction. Cerin offered a last pat on the dwarf's shoulder before she left. They climbed the stairs and entered the large doors to the inner keep. Inside, Cerin saw supplies littering the room and people moving about with purpose. They had not walked far before they were halted by a voice calling to them.

"You're late," Legolas called from the side of the room. Both Aragorn and she turned to take in the speaker, who was now approaching them. Cerin smiled at the elf, who stopped just before them and looked over Aragorn.

"You look horrible," he said plainly and the Ranger rolled his eyes at his friend's words. Then Legolas turned to Cerin and gave her the same searching glance.

"You need a bath." Cerin's smile dropped and she gave him a dark look. At last, Legolas smiled at them both and they realized the joke.

"We need to see the King, Legolas," Cerin spoke up. She watched as his smile fell and his brows creased at their now serious looks. Legolas nodded and led them to the throne room. Aragorn pushed open the heavy doors and let Cerin enter first before he followed her. There at the end of the hall stood Theoden, who was speaking to one of his soldiers. Cerin took in his surprised expression at seeing them alive.

"You are alive! This is great news," he said happily as they neared him.

"I am afraid that that is the only good news, my Lord," Cerin said. Theoden looked at her questioningly, to which Aragorn answered.

"There is a great host approaching, my Lord. It is a threat unlike any other," he said seriously.

"A great host, you say?"

"Aye, all of Isengard has emptied. Its forces are ten thousand strong, at least," Aragorn spoke lowly, his face falling even more.

Theoden turned, shocked, "Ten thousand?"

"It is an army bred to destroy the world of Man," Cerin said softly.

Theoden stared at them for a long while before he swiftly pivoted and made to stride from the hall.

"Let them come!" he shouted over his shoulder as he exited, the doors slamming shut behind him. The sound echoed throughout the hall ominously.

***.*.*.*.***

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, nor any of the affiliated characters. I only own Cerin (my OC). Any references to the books or movies are acknowledged. Any infringement on my part is purely accidental and unintended.

***.*.*.*.***

Chapter 13:

Through the Night

***.*.*.*.***

Cerin and Aragorn shared an indistinguishable look before walking swiftly from the room. As the doors thudded closed behind them, they both spotted Theoden at the exit of the main hall and moved towards him. On their way, they passed Gimli and Legolas who were in the midst of a debate judging by their lively expressions and postures. Cerin motioned for them to follow her and they did so without question. They came upon Theoden's tensed form on the stairs speaking to a soldier.

"I want every able-bodied man and lad ready for battle by nightfall," they heard him order to one man before turning to the next, "Make sure to barricade the gate."

The King looked up after his orders and took in the fellowship watching him. He wore an inscrutable expression and gestured for them to follow him, "Come, I will show you the strength of the Deep."

With that they made for the main gate, which was already being reinforced with thick planks by men. Theoden stopped just before the gate and pointed outwards and upwards, "We will cover the causeway and the gate from above. These walls are six feet thick and made of solid rock. No army has ever breeched the Deeping wall or set foot in the Hornburg."

"This is no rabble of mindless orcs, Horse Lord. These are uruk hai. Their armor is thick and their shields are broad," Gimli grumbled from beside Cerin, who warily placed a hand on the dwarf's shoulder in warning.

"I have fought many wars, Master Dwarf. I know how to defend my own keep," Theoden said defensively and grasped the hilt of his sword in a tight grip.

"Saruman's army will break on the Deep like water on rock. The uruk hai will pillage and burn your lands," Cerin warned quietly. Her face was serious and her eyes sad.

Theoden looked at her and spoke confidently, "Crops can be resewn and homes rebuilt. Within these walls, we will outlast them."

"They do not come to destroy Rohan's crops or villages. They come to destroy its people, down to the last child!" Aragorn finally said, angry at Theoden's lack of insight. Theoden turned and grabbed Aragorn's tunic, pulling him in closely.

"And what would you have me do, my Lord Aragorn?" Theoden whispered angrily, "Look closely at my men! Their courage hangs by a single thread. If this is to be our end, I would have them make such an end as to be worthy of remembrance!"

"Send out riders, my Lord. Call for aid!" Aragorn beseeched him after Theoden had released his tunic.

"Who would come? Elves, dwarves? Rohan is not so lucky in its friends as you. The old alliances are dead," Theoden said a quiet hopelessness.

"Gondor will answer," Aragorn answered, his expression self-assured.

"Gondor!" Theoden sputtered, visibly angry and insulted, "Where was Gondor when the Westfold fell? Where was Gondor when our enemies closed in all around us? Where was Gondor—No, my Lord Aragorn, we are alone." His words rang with a strong finality. Theoden said no more to them and left.

Cerin watched as Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli all made their way back inside with grim expressions while she remained behind. She turned and looked down the causeway into the open plains. By nightfall the land would be covered in a black as dark as the sky on a moonless night. Their chances for victory seemed just as dark. Overhead, she faintly heard orders for all women and children to make for the caves behind the Deep.

***.*.*.*.***

Cerin assisted wherever she was needed. Most of her time was spent helping to carry supplies into the caves. She did not relish going into the caves, but it was a necessity. Upon her first entrance, she wanted to marvel at the magnificent sight of the large underground cavern, but her time in Moria put her off being in caves.

As the day progressed, Cerin became more and more reluctant to venture into the caves. Soldiers went in to recruit men and boys for the coming battle. Cries of mothers and wives alike filled the cavern as their loved ones were pulled away to an almost certain death. Most that she saw pass her on their way to the armory were too old or too young for her liking. It was sad pickings, indeed, and even sadder chances if they were Rohan's only fighting force. She was on one of her last trips to move supplies when she was interrupted.

"Cerin!" came a joyous shout from behind her. Cerin turned just in time to receive a hearty embrace. Looking down, Cerin realized that the person was Eowyn. Finally, Eowyn pulled away from the hug, keeping her hands clasped around Cerin's forearms.

"I am still unhappy with you, but I am so glad you are alive, my friend," Eowyn said quietly, offering a small smile.

"I am happy to be alive as well," Cerin said cheekily, "But what have I done to deserve your ire, Eowyn?"

At this Eowyn let go of Cerin's arms and frowned, "You sided with Uncle and denied me the chance to fight."

"You were better served leading your people to safety than on a battlefield," Cerin said gently.

"But I can fight! Women of my country learned long ago that those without swords can still die upon them. I do not wish to be caged behind the bars of my station until use and old age accepts me, and all chance of valor has gone beyond recall or desire," Eowyn admitted, her voice changing from indignant to anxious.

Cerin gazed at Eowyn in understanding. "We are women of this new Age, and our place is still in the home. I have forsaken that life. You see glory in my life of independence and battle; I see loneliness. But you, Eowyn, are a daughter of kings and a shield maiden of Rohan. You may not find a place in this world as a warrior, but you will always be needed by your family and your people. There is honor in that. I do not think my life or your fears will be your fate."

Eowyn gazed searchingly into Cerin's face before nodding, "You have given me much to think on. I will leave you to your task, my friend."

Cerin watched as Eowyn moved past her and further into the cavern. She bent near an elderly woman who was trying to stand and gently pulled her up while offering a kind smile. Cerin left the caves with thoughts of their conversation heavy on her mind. While her mind was clouded with thought, her feet led her to the armory.

The room that served as the armory was of average size and housed weapons and armor. The items within this room were not of great caliber or making, but they would serve their purpose. Sounds of clanking metal and jingling chain filled her ears upon her entrance. Conversation was plentiful as she walked further into the room, but the terror hanging in the air was so thick one could almost choke on it. A few men doled blades and armor out from the racks to the peasants. Men and boys crowded the room receiving their weapons and checking the fit of their chainmail. Most handled the blades poorly and wore armor of improper fit. These men were not soldiers, and they were aware of that. The fear in their faces attested to them knowing.

She spied her companions a small distance from her and began to make her way to them. Her progress was slow due to the large volume of people present. It was obvious they were deep in discussion but she could not hear what they spoke of from where she was. She deduced that it was not a pleasant conversation for their expressions made up for the words she could not hear. Cerin was within feet of them when the room suddenly quieted. She quickly realized the reason for the silence and could only watch as the argument progressed.

"Look at them. They are afraid. You can see it in their eyes," Legolas said loudly and disgustedly. His voice reverberated throughout the room. The silent men watched fixedly as these warriors turned on each other. Gimli watched with a helpless expression.

"You must see that they have more hope of defending themselves here than at Edoras," Aragorn reasoned in a quieter voice.

"There is no hope. They are three hundred against ten thousand!" Legolas glared at Aragorn, "They are all going to die!" A gasp escaped everyone listening. Aragorn's face was transformed into a picture of rage at his friend's words.

"Then I shall die as one of them!" he yelled for all to hear. After throwing one last glare at the elf, he turned and strode from the room, the men making a clean path to the exit.

Cerin watched as Legolas' face fell from anger to sadness and regret at his actions. He made to go after the Ranger but was halted by a large hand on his arm.

"Let him go, lad," Gimli said wisely.

Legolas' gaze traveled from the doorway Aragorn had left through and landed on Cerin's sad stare. His eyes pleaded for forgiveness and Cerin offered him a small, comforting smile before exiting as well.

***.*.*.*.***

Cerin found Aragorn atop the armaments of the outer wall staring out into the distance as dusk fell around them. She quietly approached and stopped next to him, leaning against the wall comfortably. She offered no words and simply remained beside him.

"These are no men. They are little more than boys and I am leading them to their deaths," Aragorn said quietly into the silence, "They have no hope for victory."

"If a single candle can light a darkened room, then hope remains," Cerin said just as quietly, "My mother told me that once."

"When did she tell you that?" He asked her, his eyes still focused on some point before them.

"Just after my father died," she whispered into the night.

"A single flame in the darkness may be all we have this night," he said despairingly, "Just when I think I am sure of my path in life, fate deals me an impossible hand."

Cerin stood from her leaning stance and faced the Man next to her, taking in his bedraggled appearance. His clothes had seen far better days; rips, tears, and mud adorned much of the fabric. His hair hung to his shoulders in a brown curly mess. Lastly, she looked at his face. His profile was strong with a sharp jaw line and a straight nose that fit his features. He sported a week old beard in need of shaving. Aragorn looked the picture of a man who had been through the fires of Mordor, and Cerin was sorry that he would not receive the rest he deserved this night. Aragorn turned to observe her as she spoke, noting her determined expression.

"You will lead the fellowship and the people of Rohan into battle. Whether it is to victory or an honorable death, I know not, but this is not the end. This night will be a beginning; a beginning to our fight against the forces of Sauron and Saruman. That is your path," Cerin spoke confidently, her gaze steady.

"No, my path is hidden from me," Aragorn despaired. Cerin stepped within an arm's length of Aragorn. She tilted her face upwards and met his heavy gaze.

"But it is already laid before your feet, Aragorn. You cannot falter now," she whispered strongly, her hand rising to cup his cheek softly, "If you trust nothing else, trust your heart." Moments passed as she held his stare, trying to impart the truth of her words to him. Her hand stroked his cheek of its own accord, and she noticed his beard felt rough against her palm.

Aragorn stared into her intense gaze as she spoke again, the dying sunlight reflecting off her deep auburn hair. "A man once told me that there is no room for doubt, and that is certainly true on this night," she said lowly, her hand falling from his face.

Aragorn slowly straightened, the weariness leaving his posture. His expression was no longer lost and looked accepting. Still gazing into her face, he brought both hands up to cup her cheeks. He slowly bent, placing a light kiss on her forehead. Her eyes fluttered closed as his lips touched her skin. They slowly opened, as if awaking from a daze, when he pulled away.

"Thank you," he said lowly, dropping his arms to his sides once more. His eyes conveyed his gratitude and the truth of his words. A small grin appeared on Cerin's face in response, her whole expression lightening.

"You are welcome," she said lightly, "Now, come. We must prepare for war."

***.*.*.*.***

With a loud thump and clangs from the metal, Cerin dropped all of her armor from her arms onto the wooden table in the armory. She immediately began adorning each item. She grabbed the shin guards first and tightened both the straps at the ankle and below the knee. Her shirt of chainmail went on over her blue tunic and fell to mid-thigh. Cerin pulled a thick leather tunic on next over the chainmail and wrapped a wide belt around her small waist. Her sword went through the belt and hung at her hip. Cerin looked over the items atop the table and reached for her daggers. Two went in her boots and another on her other hip. The strap of her quiver laid across her chest and fell lightly on her back. Lastly, she palmed her bow, a gift from her first visit to the Golden Wood.

She looked over her shoulder towards Aragorn and saw him sporting a similar outfit of armor. He was currently assessing his own weapons that were spread out for his viewing. Movement near the doorway pulled her gaze from the Ranger. Legolas entered the room and approached Aragorn. The elf's arrival pulled him from his thoughts and his focus from the items in front of him. Aragorn turned to his friend and regarded him silently. Cerin took in the regretful expression on Legolas' face as he stared at Aragorn.

"We have trusted you until now and you have not led us astray. I was wrong to despair, and for that I ask for your forgiveness," Legolas said sincerely, his eyes open and honest.

Aragorn's arm stretched up and clamped down on the elf's shoulder in friendship. "There is nothing to forgive," he said in his low voice. Legolas let loose a brilliant smile and clasped Aragorn's shoulder in the same fashion.

"It is good that you two are speaking again. We will need all of our allies this night, and who better than friends?" Cerin spoke from her place a little ways away from them. Both nodded at her words.

"Where is Gimli?" Legolas asked.

"He went to get a better fitting suit of mail. He was having a hard time with the one he was given," she explained as she seated herself on a bench beside Aragorn's arming station.

She watched as Aragorn finished placing his daggers on his person and reached for his cloak. Gimli chose then to walk through the doors carrying a large bundle of metal. The suit in his arms clinked with every step he took. He stopped in front of Cerin and shook out the suit. Pulling it over his head and pushing his arms through, he held the thing around his chest and let it drop. The suit of mail fell heavily and clanked upon impact with the floor. It looked ridiculous on him! The arms and skirt were too long for a person his size. Cerin called on everything in her to not laugh, but she could not help the small, amused grin that escaped.

"Hmph! It is quite tight across the chest," he said grumpily and looked up at everyone embarrassingly, "If I had the time, I would have it adjusted."

"Do not worry, Gimli, those who know you have no doubt of your prowess in battle no matter what you wear," Cerin offered reassuringly.

"And that is as it should be! I can still swing my arms in this metal, so beware if I am holding an axe," he ranted, his chest puffed up in pride.

The conversation lulled then and the sounds of activity filled the silence for a while. They all returned to their thoughts as they completed their final preparations. They were broken from their quiet contemplation by a high pitched and long winded note of a horn. Cerin's head whipped towards the exit as she listened to the foreign noise. The horn sounded again, waking them from their statue-like state.

"That is no orc horn," Legolas said confusedly.

"No, no that is not the sound of evil," Cerin said in recognition and raced for the doorway.

She heard the others' footsteps follow behind her as she ran through the armory doors and down the long hallway to the main hall. She pushed the heavy hall doors open into the falling night and almost flew down the stairway to the round landing. She halted, staring down the curved stairway leading to the Deep's entrance. Cerin felt the fellowship catch up to her and stand behind her to wait. Calls went up to open the gate and sounds of marching filled her ears. The soldiers of Rohan gasped as the strangers passed them. Finally, a troupe of green-cloaked men standing four abreast and many long halted before her. She stood taking in the soldiers facing her and smiled as the commander approached her.

Cerin's hair fluttered as Aragorn ran past her and engulfed Haldir in a warm hug. She almost laughed at Haldir's comically awkward expression before he gave in and returned the Ranger's embrace. She finally let out a happy giggle and moved forward.

"My turn, Aragorn," she said lightly as she pulled the Man away from the March Warden. Woman and elf regarded each other for a few moments before finally falling into an embrace full of warm affection. "I have missed you, my friend," she said quietly.

"And I you, Angulóce," he said just as fondly, "I believe that many a orc will experience the flames of your fury this night."

"I have wondered about something, Cerin, why are you called a dragon?" Legolas asked, his question drawing them from their reunion. Haldir stepped back from the hug and looked from Cerin's open face to Legolas' curious one.

"That is a story for another time, Legolas," Cerin said simply, dismissing the question.

"Actually, she earned that title from the way she reacts when woken too early," Haldir added nonchalantly with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"You lie!" Cerin gasped as she rounded on him and delivered a severe glare.

"That is completely false," she told the amused Legolas.

"Are you quite sure of that, Cerin?" the entertained woodland elf asked. Cerin issued him a similar glare and turned to look at the Ranger beside her who had been silent until that time.

"Why have you come, Haldir? Do you bring news?" Aragorn asked, his face a picture of confusion. The amused twinkle left the March Warden's expression and morphed to a serious mien.

"I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell." Those around him broke into brilliant smiles at his words.

"Then you must follow me. I am sure you must share this news with the King," Cerin said while gesturing to the doors guarding the hall at the top of the stone stairs behind them. She turned and led her companions up the stairs and through the large entrance. At the end of the hall, they entered the throne room once again. Theoden stood from his seat upon spotting that the fellowship was accompanied by a new face. His face revealed his confusion at the new elf's presence but he moved forward to greet him.

"What is this?" the Horse Lord inquired. Haldir stepped forward to meet the King. He stopped just before the Man and raised his right arm across his chest to rest a fist against his left shoulder. Theoden nodded his head in response, though admittedly still confused.

"Theoden, King of Men, I bring news from Elrond of Imladris There was once an alliance between elves and Men where we fought and died together. We have come to honor that allegiance," Haldir spoke lowly, the importance of his words resonating throughout the hall.

"You are most welcome here," Aragorn said warmly as he clasped Halir's broad shoulder in camaraderie. The serious elf twisted his head and offered a small grin to the Ranger.

Looking back at Theoden in his full battle suit of arms, "We are proud to fight alongside Men once more."

"It is joyous indeed for Rohan to call elves comrades once again," Theoden's voice rang out, "But alas, the sun is about done with its journey this day. We must position ourselves among the ranks. The drums of war can already be heard in the distance." They all made to quit the room when Theoden's voice stopped them suddenly.

"My Lady, surely you cannot be thinking of fighting this eve?" he said, aghast at her attire.

From the edge of her vision, she noticed her friends face her to watch the conversation unfold. She was annoyed with his question, certainly, but she mainly felt confusion. Of course she would fight! She had proven her ability against the wargs, why would he seek to exclude her this night? So, she asked him so.

"You have proven that you can wield a blade against a warg, yes, but this foe is a match for men. What could one woman do against such an enemy?" he explained with a slight air of superiority about him. Cerin heard the underlying condescension in his voice and straightened at the perceived challenged.

"My Lord," she began slowly, "I was trained by the guard of Rivendell and by the Royal family. I have been a scout for the elven kingdom for nigh on ten winters, chosen by Elrond, ruler of Rivendell. I single-handedly infiltrated Isengard for a fortnight on a mission given to me by Lord Elrond."

"Lady Cerin, your skill is obvious. However, I still think the safest course would be for you to go into the caves," he said lowly, his voice losing its condescension and gaining a pinch of concern.

"No matter the risks, my Lord, my place is in the thick of battle," she shook her head, "If you still think my place is in the caves, my Lord, then I must tell you that I am considered family to the royal family of Imladris, and as such, you may consider me an ambassador for the land. I believe the laws concerning ambassadors are well known."

"No, my Lady," the King said tightly, "I am aware that you are subject to the laws of your land only. If you wish to see battle, who am I to stop you? Do as you will." Everyone watched silently as the King of Rohan strode angrily from the hall and left them in a charged silence.

"Do you think that was wise, Cerin?" Haldir asked quietly in the tense room.

Cerin ignored his question and looked towards the other elf in their company, "You asked why I am called a dragon, Legolas. One reason is because I am said to spit flames when angered, so all in my path be warned." All was silent again as she exited and left a slightly stunned March Warden and fellowship behind her.

"I am glad I am not an uruk then," Gimli muttered into the silence.

***.*.*.*.***

As she stepped onto the stairs leading up to the armaments and the Deeping wall, lightning flashed over the ravine and lighting the whole Deep. Briefly, she spied the frightened faces of the men and boys she was passing on her way down the ranks before their forms fell back into the darkness. Visibility was low, she noticed as the clap of thunder finally rang out around them. The only light they had to see by was the occasional star dotting the cloudy sky and the streaks of lightning every so often.

On her way across the top of the wall, she passed from the forces of Rohan into the ranks of the elves. Their curved golden bows and armor glinted with each flash of light. Finally, she came upon Legolas and Gimli. She allowed herself an amused chuckle as she approached them. Even from a distance, one could tell that Gimli stood well below the almost chest high solid stone rail. He was easy to spot from within the keep as he was a short figure among many tall, lithely forms. She quieted as she took her place on the other side of Gimli and stared out over the dark plains of the ravine.

"You could have picked a better spot," Gimli complained in his gruff voice. The corners of Cerin's lips turned upwards in a faint grin at the dwarf's complaint.

All was quiet around them, and the air was charged and tense. It was as if everyone was waiting for the axe to fall in their own execution. Through the quiet suddenly came the faint sound of drums. Immediately, Cerin was reminded of Moria and the drums sounding in the dark. Those around her visibly tensed upon hearing the low beat.

Time passed slowly as it always does when one is waiting. The sky above darkened and flashed with increasing frequency. After a long while, small orange lights could be seen on the horizon and the drums became louder as they neared. Footsteps mingled with the drums and thunder. Twisting, Cerin spotted Aragorn approaching from along the ranks. He made his way to them and stopped just behind Gimli. The Ranger grasped the dwarf's shoulders in a show of solidarity. The four stood staring out at the encroaching mass in the distance.

"Whatever luck you live by, Laddie, let's hope it lasts the night," Gimli said in a falsely hopeful voice as he took in the lovely sight of stone.

"Your friends are with you Aragorn, to whatever end," Legolas proclaimed loyally.

"Let's hope that they last the night," Gimli said in the same falsely light tone.

Minutes seemed like hours as they watched the sea of black march closer to the Deep. The drums seemed to grow louder with each step the Enemy took. The beat resonated in their very being and the stone below their feet felt as though it was vibrating. The first drops of rain began to fall as the writhing mass of uruks halted in front of the fortress.

Cerin felt Aragorn turn to move away. She twisted towards his retreating figure and took two quick steps forward. Her arm felt to move of its own volition and grabbed Aragorn's hand tightly. Her grip jerked him to a stop. Aragorn turned back and looked from their clasped hands to her tensed expression.

"Please, be careful," she said concernedly as she stared into his own taught expression.

"I will," both Legolas and Gimli answered.

Aragorn and Cerin ignored the two and the rain that now fell in a steady drizzle on them. Aragorn broke their locked gaze and looked back to their hands. His thumb brushed against the back of her hand in a soft motion.

"I will," he said quietly and released her hand. He turned again after one last glance at her increasingly soaked form and walked back to the front of the ranks.

Cerin faced forward as the drums reached a fever pitch. Cries and yells poured from the uruks. Above the cacophony of noise rose a single voice.

"Show them no mercy for you shall receive none!" shouted Aragorn.

At once, everyone loaded their bows and pulled the strings taught. Their arrows were all trained on the Enemy before them. The motion almost seemed practiced for how fluid it was. The rain forwent the drizzling and began pelting the land in icy sheets. Lightning flashed again and lit the gathered army. The yells and growls of their foe filled their ears. Almost as one, the army started slamming its spears against the ground. It created a pseudo drumbeat and a wall of noise filled the ravine.

"What's happening down there?" Gimli asked impatiently.

"Shall I describe it to you?" Legolas asked cheekily.

"I could find you a box if you'd like," Cerin offered good-naturedly.

Gimli let loose a deep belly laugh at their taunts. Legolas and Cerin could not help but chuckling along with the dwarf. Some of their tension released with their laughter and their nerves steadied. The woman and the elf redrew their arrows and again trained them on a far off uruk.

Suddenly, all noise in the ravine ceased. No shouts or growls came from the uruks, who had stopped stomping their spears. The lack of noise was eerie. Looking down, Cerin spotted one felled uruk with an arrow sticking from its collar area. Those around it stared in confusion for a short while then turned as one back to the fortress. Deep, guttural growls emanated from every uruk as a cry went up to charge. The battle had finally begun.

Cerin watched as the army moved as one and rushed the Deep. All of the massive ten foot long metal spears lowered to be parallel with the ground, creating a formidable barricade between the wall and the front line.

"Prepare to fire!" came through the din. Keeping her eyes trained on the army, Cerin leveled her arrow and chose a target in the moving mass.

"Their armor is weak at the neck and below the arm," Legolas said to her, his eyes never leaving his target. Closer and closer the creatures came. Finally, their front line was within range of all of the archers atop the wall.

"Fire!"

With a whoosh, Cerin's arrow released and flew true. Uruks fell all along the line, but the ones behind just stepped over and on them in their charge. Cerin ignored the stinging of the heavy rain and loaded another arrow and fired. She continued firing round after round. From the keep suddenly came a volley of arrows. They struck the flank of the coming force. Further volleys were aimed towards the causeway and the black creatures climbing towards the gates. A stream of arrows flew over Cerin's head in a graceful arc. The archers on the ground behind the wall reloaded, aimed high, and released again and again at an unseen force over the wall.

The arrows struck their marks, but the army kept moving forward towards the fortress. From the midst of the roiling blackness rose massive, crude metal ladders. They were great in height and certainly tall enough to breech the wall. Shouts of ladders went up all around her and the unmistakable clink of swords being drawn answered it. Cerin slung her bow over her shoulder and drew her own blade.

"Finally!" Gimli shouted excitedly and raised his axe.

Metal slammed against the stone right in front of them. The hooked ends catching the lip of the wall and anchoring it there. Others just like the one before them lined the top of the whole wall. Gimli caught the first uruk in the chest with a mighty swing of his sharp axe blade. It fell backwards into the night and knocked some bodies from the line up the ladder. More flooded over the wall onto the armaments. One swung a crude blade with a large arm straight for Cerin's head, but she ducked quickly and jabbed upwards into its chest. She barely noticed it fall over dead before she turned to her next foe. Screams rang out around her as foe and ally alike fell from the wall.

"Legolas, I'm at four already!" Gimli shouted joyfully from a short distance away. Cerin smiled as she beheaded the uruk in front of her.

"I'm at seventeen!" the elf called back tauntingly.

"Well I'm at twelve, Gimli," Cerin laughed back and ducked a sword aimed for her.

"Ahh!" he yelled, swinging his axe into the uruk next to him, "No pointy-ear or woman will out-score me!"

"I take offense to the woman comment, dwarf," Cerin teased over the din.

Besides flooding the wall, the Enemy was climbing the causeway. After the first attempt was met with volleys of arrows, the line of uruks raised broad metal shields above them and before the first in line. Stones rained down from the keep onto the causeway, but they were ineffective. The stones and arrows rebounded off the thick metal. A yell came from the wall directing some of the archers to aim for the shields. They were only protected above and in front, but not from the side. One by one the outer edges of the group fell from the great height of the causeway.

Cerin looked back from her glance at the gates and spied an uruk running towards the wall carrying a large torch. Those around it cleared a large pathway to the wall. Alarms began ringing in her mind at the strangeness of the action.

"Legolas, kill it! Bring it down!" she shouted to the elf while pointing at the running creature. Her voice joined Aragorn's shouted command. Both yelled for the elf to bring it down. Two arrows embedded deeply into its shoulders. The beast faltered slightly before staggering forward to the wall. Another arrow sank into its chest and slowed it more. At last, it took its final steps and fell forward below the wall into the single drain of the fortress and the only opening in the wall.

The very world shook as the center of the Deeping wall exploded upwards and outwards. Great boulders flew in all directions and landed where they pleased. Cerin stared in shock at the gap in the massive wall before forcing herself to focus on the uruks still climbing over the top of the wall.

"Aragorn!" Gimli's voice cried into the night. Cerin whipped around and spotted his form splayed on the ground. She watched him stagger to his feet as a flood of black raged into the new opening. Slashing her blade, Cerin turned back again as Gimli shouted and jumped from the top of the wall right onto the coming mob. He started swinging his axe into any available body but was quickly pushed to the ground.

"Gimli!" Aragorn and Cerin shouted. Their voices melded together in their cry. Immediately, Cerin started fighting to the remaining staircase leading to the ground. The elven fighters that stood behind the wall began firing arrows at the coming mob and were somewhat successful. Again, the uruks gave no heed to the fallen and continued forward. The elves drew their long curved blades and charged at Aragorn's screamed command.

With a great crash, both forces collided. Jumping over bodies of foe and friend, Cerin finally made her way to the ground and joined the fray. Quickly, she reached the grounded dwarf and pulled him up with a great heave. Without pause, Gimli started fighting again. His axe landed blows without discretion in the bodies of the tall creatures.

They fought against the never-ending force for as long as they could. It seemed an impossible task and Cerin was beginning to fatigue. She gave little thought to her hurts and aches. A blade managed to slash her upper arm when the call to fall back reached her ears.

"Fall back to the keep!" someone shouted again.

"Legolas, Gimli, fall back!" she called out. She started moving backwards but kept fighting. To turn your back here was to die here.

"Haldir, move to the keep," Aragorn yelled to the March Warden.

Cerin looked up at Aragorn's call and spotted her friend still atop the wall. Just as she caught sight of him for the first time that night, a blade impaled his side. Haldir staggered sideways before straightening and running the beast through with his curved elven blade.

"No!" Cerin screamed as she watched another uruk approach from behind her injured friend and slash downwards into his back. Haldir stared towards her but not truly seeing and slumped to his knees. The creature was ready to land another blow when it was struck with a well-aimed arrow and fell from the wall. At last, the loved elf fell to the ground.

"No! No!" Cerin yelled hysterically and started fighting her way to Haldir. She did not get far before Aragorn rushed to her and began dragging her backwards. She was not moving fast enough, so he turned and physically lifted her about her waist and ran for the keep.

The door to the keep thudded closed behind them and orders were given to barricade it. Cerin slumped in Aragorn's hold. They had barely stopped moving when news reached them that the gate had been breached. Theoden stumbled past them and Aragorn hailed him for word. The King turned to them clutching his right shoulder. Blood seeped through his fingers and his face was defeated.

"The gate has been breached. The keep is taken. Retreat while you can!" he said hurriedly and made way for the inner keep.

Yells to retreat sounded around them and men started moving back towards the inner keep. Aragorn led a numb Cerin after Theoden. There were not many that filled the hall. Those remaining made to secure the door. They braced it with everything at their disposal. The dining tables, benches, and even Theoden's throne were thrown onto the growing pile.

Aragorn turned to look at the woman in his arms. Cerin's expression was blank as he lifted a bloodied hand to cup her face. His head dipped until she felt his ragged breath on her skin. Her eyes slowly rose to meet his imploring and concerned gaze.

"You can mourn him another time. We need your focus here, Cerin," he said lowly.

Cerin stared into his tired face and bright eyes. Slowly, the life returned to her expression as she realized the truth in his words. She nodded to show her understanding.

"Good, now help Legolas," he ordered without force and left her to seek out the King.

Cerin moved to help find anything with which to brace the door. Her search yielded little in the bare room. Thumps filled the room as the door was rammed. Eventually, the men resorted to throwing their weight against the door.

"The fortress is taken. It is over," Theoden called to those at the door despairingly.

Aragorn turned angrily, "You said this fort would not fall as long as there were men to defend it. They are still defending it! They have died defending it!" Theoden offered no response and turned away from Aragorn's angry face.

"Is there no other way for the women and children to exit the caves?" Aragorn asked the King. The man gave no answer and stared blankly around the room.

"Is there no other way?" Aragorn asked forcefully in his irritation.

Finally, the captain beside the silent King answered, "There is one pass that leads into the mountains, but they will not get far. The uruk hai are too many."

"Send word to the caves for them to make for the mountain pass. And barricade the door," Aragorn ordered authoritatively.

"What good will it do? What can Men do against such reckless hate - such evil?" Theoden finally voiced, his eyes lost.

"Ride out with me. We will ride out and meet them," Aragorn said definitively.

"For death and glory," Theoden said, heartened.

"Nay, for your people - for Rohan," Aragorn responded.

"The sun is rising," Gimli interrupted. All turned to look at the windows near the ceiling. Faint light filtered in and made the room glow.

"At dawn, look to the east," Cerin said quietly to Aragorn.

Aragorn looked at her with growing hope, for he too remembered Gandalf's words.

"Let this be the hour where we draw swords together," Theoden rallied and grasped the Ranger's shoulder tightly.

Horses were brought from the caves and saddled. She was not riding Greatheart, but she was still atop a noble animal. The handful of people mounted and looked to the breaking door. The rising sun filled the hall with its light and gave hope to those within.

"For Rohan!" Theoden cried as the door splintered apart and charged the opening. Cerin spurred her mount into motion behind Legolas and Aragorn. They rode out with blades flashing and cutting flesh. Uruks fell to the left and right of them as they rode down the stairs from the round landing to the broken gate. Slowly, they made a path down the causeway through the line of black, growling beings. Yells filled the morning as the Enemy was felled and bodies fell over the side of the causeway.

At length, the small force of mounted fighters made way to the ravine floor and met the remaining force of Isengard's army. The sun rose higher in the sky as they fought fiercely. The ground was alight in the warm glow of the morning. The battle halted as a great cry rang out in the distance. All gathered turned to the east and spotted a white figure atop the slope of the ravine. Behind him came a wall of horses bearing riders. An order was given and the mass of fighters flowed down the hill to the plains. The force of two thousand strong met the flank of the army by crashing head on into the fray. Heartened beyond belief, Cerin fought with renewed vigor.

The morning passed into midday and the fighting finally trickled to an end. Black bodies littered the ground and the world was awash in blood, both black and red. Men moved across the mess killing uruks still moving. Slowly, the tired warriors moved together and began gathering the wounded and the dead. The uruk bodies were piled to be burned. The fallen Men of Rohan were collected for burial. Cerin passed the long day tiredly moving the dead. The evening found her in the Deep searching for wounded. It was not long before she came upon Haldir's bloody body. His eyes stared up at her unseeingly and were glazed in death.

In an instant, all the exhaustion, physical pain, and grief crashed down on her. She could not stem the tears from running down her cheeks. With a sound not completely a gasp or a groan, Cerin fell to her knees next to his body and wept. She wrapped her arms around her torso tightly and kept a white-knuckled grip on her tunic. She knelt there with her head bowed and shoulders shaking from the force of her sobs until the fellowship found her.

***.*.*.*.***

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, nor any of the affiliated characters. I only own Cerin (my OC). Any references to the books or movies are acknowledged. Any infringement on my part is purely accidental and unintended.

***.*.*.*.***

Chapter 14:

Running Again

***.*.*.*.***

Awash in numbness, Cerin did not truly feel the gentle hands pulling her away from her friend's body. In her haze, she watched cobbled stones pass beneath her dragging feet and a whirling sea of leather, metal, and man flash past on both sides. The exertion of climbing stairs was not felt, nor was the sudden lack of the cool wind when they moved into the inner keep. She barely moved when a blonde female embraced her tightly and chastely kissed her cheek. The words she said did not register and Cerin did not offer a response.

At last, she was pushed to sit by strong hands on her shoulders. Her head turned slowly and vaguely noticed a pillow. She must be sitting on a bed because there was soft cloth under her fingers. Her gaze fell, and yes, she was sitting upon a bed. Looking forward again, her face tilted upwards and took in the openly concerned face of Aragorn. His deep eyes locked with hers. Slowly, her focus sharpened and the glazed appearance started to leave her face.

Aragorn's gaze left her face and darted down to her slumped form, "Are you cold?"

Cerin stared at him blankly before dropping her face to look at her clasped hands. It was then she realized her whole body was shivering. She met his eyes again and shook her head in the negative. His expression changed to one of understanding and Cerin realized then how vulnerable she felt in front of this man. She could not find the strength in that moment to mask her emotions.

Her face fell again to take in the sight of her hands. Blood coated her skin in a mottled black and red film. The life-giving liquid of both colors had dried and crusted. It had started to flake off in some spots, but it was not truly gone in those areas. It had seeped into her very body. The violence of the past night was still with her; on her clothes, her armor, under her fingernails, and in her mind. For a small second, she felt the overwhelming sadness of their losses fill her again before all she felt was emptiness.

"Was it worth it? Was all this death truly worth it?" she whispered into the silent room to the man standing before her. A hand reached forward and gently pulled her face upwards. Her lost gaze met his steadfast one.

"We must make their passing have worth. To give up fighting now, no matter how small our chances, would mean they had died in vain," he said lowly before dropping his hand and pointing to his right, "A woman once told me that even if a single candle burns in the darkness there is still hope. Do not let Haldir's death be meaningless."

Cerin followed his hand and took in the sight of the sole candle burning on the small stool beside the bed. A small twitch at the corners of her lips conveyed her thanks.

"You may want to fetch some bandages. I have a few scrapes that will need mending," she told Aragorn as she slowly moved to remove her armor. Her belt and blade fell to the floor as Aragorn's footsteps receded from the small room. Her leather tunic and suit of mail were next. The metal clinked loudly as it hit the floor. Now in her ruined tunic and breeches, she sat again on the bed. Ignoring the blood and grime coating her hands, she sloppily pushed her hair from her equally dirty face in exhaustion. Her hair was halfway undone from its plait but she couldn't be bothered to redo it before she had washed and slept for a week.

Approaching footsteps signaled Aragorn's return. Without preamble, he plopped down beside her on the bed and set the small bowl of water at his feet and the other items next to him. He immediately focused on the large cut on her arm. The red and bloody wound was visible through her tunic's torn sleeve. Aragorn stared at it trying to discover the best way to treat it without her having to remove her shirt.

"Just cut the sleeve off, Aragorn. There is no salvaging this tunic anyways," Cerin said to him.

He took the edges of the cut in the fabric and tore it the whole way around her arm. The fabric made a loud ripping noise in the quiet. The sleeve fell away and left her arm bare from her lower shoulder down. The loss of the sleeve revealed a long trail of dried blood down her arm. Picking up the bowl of water, Aragorn set to cleaning the blood from her cut and hands. The cut was cleanest but everything else was tinted red from the dirty water. It would take a couple washings to clean her of this night.

Cerin was pulled from her morbid thoughts by a cool sensation on her arm. Aragorn rubbed a greenish paste onto her wound and reached for the bandages. He tightly wound the clean linen around her upper arm and tied a precise knot.

"It is not poisoned, so we can be grateful for that. The paste will prevent infection. Make sure to change the bandage often. Do you have any other injuries?" he told her while wiping his hands on her discarded sleeve.

"No, only minor ones. They are nothing to fret over," she said while shaking her head.

"Then I will leave this paste with you to use. I will leave you to rest for a short while and tell the others not to disturb you," Aragorn said quietly as he gathered his things, "Get whatever rest you can. I do not know when we will leave this place."

"Thank you," she whispered sincerely and looked up into his dirty and tired face.

His free hand reached forward and lightly brushed a loose hair away from her face. His fingers trailed smoothly across her forehead and down over her cheek.

"Sleep now," he said just as quietly. His eyes were dark in the low light of the room and his features cast half in shadow. His expression changed from gentleness to exhaustion as his hand dropped to his side. Cerin nodded and Aragorn finally turned and strode from the room. The door made a quiet thud as it fell closed.

Alone now, Cerin fought to keep her thoughts from falling to despair. She tried to cling to the feelings of hope Aragorn gave her but it was hard. She pushed her boots off and climbed under the single soft blanket. The comfort of the straw mattress was irrelevant as her knees curled up to her chest and her hands rested under her chin. Her mind flitted from thought to mindless thought as she watched the candle's flames flicker and the shadows move on the wall. At last, tiredness began to pull on Cerin's mind. Her eyelids started to slide closed before she would pull them open again even slower than the last time. Her body felt heavy with exhaustion, but she was reluctant to let sleep take her. Who knew what would meet her in her mind's eye while asleep? She did not really want to find out, but the choice was null as her eyes fell closed to the sight of the candle for the last time that evening.

***.*.*.*.***

With a slow blink, Cerin came awake to the sight of a lit room. Her gaze fell on the stool beside her bed where a fresh candle sat flickering. Sitting up, Cerin groggily pulled her boots on and made to stand, but something made her stance uneven. Looking down, she spied a folded set of clothes for her and a tray of food next to it. Thankfully, she had not stepped on the food. Someone had seen to give her new clothes, and remembering her ruined shirt, she was all the more thankful to that person. After eating and changing, she set out from her room.

Helms Deep was still in tatters. The women and children had come out of the caves and filled the keep. They littered the halls and walkways that she traveled. Their cries and whimpers of grief twisted the dagger in Cerin's heart just a little more. She walked to the broken doors of the inner keep and stared out over the deep and the vast plains. Soldiers still filled the fields with carts collecting the bodies of friend and foe. Her eyes at last fell on the broken and crumbling Deeping wall. Many emotions filled her at its image but the most prominent were a sense of anxiety and sadness. It was then she knew she could not bring herself to stay at this fortress for another day. This was a place of death and the cloying atmosphere ate at her.

Turning around, she made for the throne room. Thankfully, it was almost empty save for a few men and Gandalf. The wizard was seated at a far table looking contemplative while taking a long drag from his pipe. She approached the white Istari and filled the bench across from him. Her hands grasped each other in front of her on the table. Her gaze rested on her clasped appendages as she sat there in the quiet of the room.

"I cannot stay here, Gandalf. This place unsettles me," she confided quietly. The wizard stared at the woman across from him for a good while, occasionally taking puffs from his pipe.

"You may call me a coward and a fool, but I cannot remain here for however many days it takes to rebuild," she said lowly. Her eyes rose and watched as he regarded her.

With a last exhale of smoke, he made to respond. "By its definition, war means there will be losses on both sides. No matter who wins, both parties will feel its toll. War is impartial in who it chooses to involve in its battles just as death is dealt to those we would not have it given. To become numb to death and loss is to lose a part of yourself," he paused and took another drag from his pipe, "You must know that you cannot run forever, Cerin. You cannot run from this kind of hurt."

Cerin's eyes fell to her hands again and her expression became ashamed, "I do know this...But, it is just so much easier when I do not have to stay at the source of my pain."

"Grieve, Cerin, but do not lose sight of our goal. We fight for a free world where shadow does not threaten to consume our lands and a day where we may live without fear," Gandalf said seriously, but not without care, and his eyes stared piercingly into her face.

Cerin was silent for a long minute before she said in a resolute voice, "I will grieve, but not here."

Gandalf sighed, "We plan to make for Isengard in two days' time. If you are resolved to leaving, perhaps you could scout ahead. Isengard is empty of its forces and you have been there in secret before. But, do not let that lull you into false thoughts of a safe journey. Saruman has lost his arm, but he is not without his wits."

"I will do as you say and travel to Isengard once again. I will take heed and be cautious on my journey. I will expect you to arrive two days behind me, but if you are any longer, I will make for Edoras," she promised and stood from the bench, "I will depart within the hour. I do not know where the others are, so please tell them of my leaving."

"Be safe, my dear."

"I will. Thank you," she said sincerely and grasped his shoulder as she passed.

On her way out of the hall, she politely asked a passing soldier to gather Greatheart and tack him up. Once she was back in her room, Cerin washed as best she could with a scrap of cloth and a small bowl of water. She redid her plait and tied the end off tightly with a string of leather. She gathered her weapons and armor before striding from the room. She passed a crate of food and grabbed what she could for her journey. Cerin found the soldier holding Greatheart's lead on the round landing in the outer keep. She nodded her thanks and lightly took the reins from his hand. She mounted after securing her small pack of provisions behind her saddle. With a quiet click, Greatheart was pushed into motion and directed down the curved staircase towards the breeched gate. People parted as she approached to make way. Some stared as she passed, but mostly she was ignored in favor of whatever task they had. Greatheart walked through the splintered gate and slowly down the causeway to the plains. The bodies and weapons littering the ground kept their pace slow. There were burning piles all around the battlefield and the awful stench of burning flesh filled the air. The smell seemed to burn her nose with its unpleasantness. She was pulled from her thoughts on the morbid surroundings by someone hailing her.

"Lass, come here," Gimli's gruff voice called from off to her side. Cerin quickly spotted his stout form and maneuvered Greatheart around all the obstacles over to his position. She halted just beside him.

"Where are you going, girl?" he asked and looked up confusedly at her pack behind her.

"I'm off to Isengard. Gandalf would have me scout ahead before you all are set to leave for the fortress," she told him with a straight face. Cerin felt her insides roil at the half truth she gave her friend.

"Oh, Isengard, you say? Well now, that's a dangerous place to be going alone, Cerin," he said a little concernedly. He eyes creased and his brows cinched together in worry.

"I have been there before, Gimli, and I was alone then, too," Cerin said simply.

"Aye, I know, Lass, but that don't stop me from worrying about ye," Gimli said in the same worried tone.

"I will be fine, my friend. I will see you in a few days. Farewell," Cerin nodded to him and turned north again.

She had almost made it to the edge of the battlefield when the sound of a trotting horse came from behind her. Pulling back on the reins, she turned in the saddle to view the source of the sound and saw Aragorn atop Brego closing in on her and Greatheart. His hair rushed forward around his face as Brego came to a sudden stop beside her. The man and woman stared at each other in confusion, though the sources of their emotions were different.

"Gimli tells me that you make for Isengard. Why do you leave when we go there in two days?" Aragorn finally asked her.

"Gandalf wishes me to scout the route," she answered. Her eyes would not meet his as she responded and rested somewhere over his shoulder.

He saw her reluctance to meet his gaze and spoke of it, "Tell me the truth, Cerin."

She practically flinched at his command. She should have known that he would see through her lie.

"I want - no, need - to leave. The sight of all this death pulls at my heart and constricts my chest in agony. The very air I breathe is noxious and smells of death itself. I can stand it no longer. I sought out Gandalf who gave me leave to go to Isengard," she confessed somewhat ashamedly.

"Do you think that your grief is greater than any of ours?" Aragorn asked frankly. His face now held the beginnings of anger.

"No, I do not think that my grief hurts any more than yours!" she intoned, affronted.

"Then stop running, Cerin! Do not run when you have friends who feel as you do," he said loudly, frustrated.

"I am not running!" Cerin said angrily back, "I do not want to remain in the place where I lost someone who was like a brother to me. I have faced enough death in my life to know how to handle my feelings!"

"I am not running," she said again in denial.

"You are! Haldir's death affected me, too, but I know that he would not want me to give up on our goal. You cannot forever run from your pain! I thought you were stronger than this," Aragorn almost shouted, eyes glaring. His expression fully conveyed the anger he felt at her failure to face this challenge.

"And who are you to be making such demands of me? You are a man who has been running from his birthright his entire life! Even now you run from it! What do you think will happen if we actually win this war? Do you think you can just go back to your wilderness and anonymity? No, the world will call for the rightful heir to take the throne of Gondor! Will you answer their call?" she yelled at him, her eyes glaring in anger and hair whipping around her face in the breeze.

"I have not decided yet, but I am no longer avoiding the choice, which is more than I can say about you and your challenges. As to who I am….I am your friend – a friend who cares for your well-being and would not see you make a foolish decision!" his voice changed from angry to frustrated and imploring.

Cerin visibly deflated at his words and turned a gaze full of shame on the Ranger. "I am lost again… and I am afraid. I am once again finding that I am not as strong as I once thought myself to be," she said lowly and gave a sad chuckle, "But, my convictions are still within me. They are just overshadowed at the moment. I know this will pass."

"Thank you for always making me see reason," she said gratefully after a few silent moments. Her clear eyes sparkled in the sunlight. '_And thank you for always being there when I need you,'_ she finished in her mind.

"Well I am glad you are staying-," he began, his face looking relieved.

"I almost wish I could just to prove you wrong about my need to run away, but Gandalf gave me leave for this mission, so I need to go," she cut him off.

"What? I still do not see the intelligence in letting a woman go alone to Isengard," Aragorn sputtered in disbelief at her words.

"I have been there before! Does no one remember this fact? I did not think that you would doubt me, Aragorn. Well, I will show you," she scowled at him, completely frustrated again. She did not wait for him to respond before she turned Greatheart northwards again and spurred him into a run. She faintly heard Aragorn's shout for her to wait on the rushing wind but she ignored it.

***.*.*.*.***

Cerin had remained true to her quest and set out for Isengard, however, she no longer traveled on the mission for her original reasons. Now, she went to prove to Aragorn that she could survive danger on her own. Since she had left the Ranger on the field outside Helms Deep, she had been feeding off her anger over his doubt of her. She was still happy to be away from that place of death and still felt the pain of a fresh loss in her life, but she clung to this feeling of frustration. Her anger stemmed from him completely ignoring that she had fought in the battle and survived! Oh, and that she had already been to Isengard and had gone unnoticed! Would she spend her entire life proving herself to men? It appeared to be so, sadly.

The Istari had warned that the way was still fraught with dangers, so she travelled slower and more cautiously than she normally would. She traveled through Fangorn Forest and enjoyed the peace she always found under treetops. On the border of the forest, Cerin left Greatheart to meander at will because she knew a massive horse of his size, though swift, would be too conspicuous to travel by through the lands near her destination. She trusted that he would be safe. He was a horse of war, after all. She planned to call upon him once she was done with this assignment.

She reached Isengard after almost a day on foot. She used the path she had discovered on her mission from Elrond into Isengard that circled around and came from the north of the fortress. It was still a deserted and well-hidden way for her to enter. She carefully made her way for the same secluded outcropping as her first mission as well. It was a risk to do so, but she had no time to waste finding another way into the fortress. Once there, she looked out over the valley. What she saw gave her pause. The almighty Isengard stronghold was in ruins. Rubble littered every speck of land, and there was now a good two feet of standing water covering the ground. Great plumes of black smoke rose hundreds of feet in the air from the massive craters in the ground that led down to the foundries. Large tree-like beings moved about the area with purpose. It really was a sight to behold.

Cerin decided to make her way closer to the tower seeing that there was no battle still in progress. About an hour later, Cerin managed to meander her way down to the valley floor and made her way to the center. She could see that efforts were being made to organize those remaining. By the time she arrived at the epicenter, which was near the base of the onyx tower, almost everyone had already dispersed. As she approached, a small group of Ents noticed her.

"Oh, who be you, my Lady?" one tall tree-form asked slowly in a deep, gravelly voice.

Cerin took in the sight of the being addressing her. If he hadn't been moving, she truly would have mistaken him for a tree - that was how similar the likeness was. She could see what looked like facial features in its bark, but that, too, would not be very noticeable should he stop talking. It was a very strange sight for the woman.

"I am Cerin, my friend. I am a scout here on business for the wizard, Gandalf. Do not fear for I am also an enemy of the Shadow," she voiced civilly, "May I know your name, friend?"

"Hmmm, Gandalf, you say? Oh, oh yes I know of the Istari. Well if you be here on his behalf, then your mission must be of a noble nature," he chortled, though slowly, "My name, you ask? I be Treebeard, my Lady. I be organizing this effort, I am."

"Well, then if you are in charge, I must admit that I am curious as to the whereabouts of Saruman," she asked politely, truly curious to know the fate of the Deceiver.

"Ah, that coward of a traitor be locked inside his precious tower – ran when he saw his victory go south, and the idiot of a wizard won't answer for nary a shout nor taunt. His shutters be tightly closed and he avoids the balconies, so we haven't even seen the fiend!" Treebeard complained gruffly in his slow manner of speech.

"Would you possibly be in need of another pair of eyes, Treebeard?" she offered.

"Of course, my Lady," he chortled, "It just be myself watching for the deviant at the moment. Everyone else is out seeking straggling Uruks and assessing the plunder and the damage."

***.*.*.*.***

From her seated position on a large rock that was barely above the knee-high water level, Cerin gazed up at the massive onyx tower at the center of the now defeated Isengard. She had been taking in this sight for a few hours now since she had been given watch duty by Treebeard, and now Cerin found that she was irrevocably bored. In her time lazing about, she had seen nary a movement from the depths of the looming tower. Absolutely nothing had happened that would elicit any kind of excitement. Saruman the Deceiver had yet to show himself and no one had returned from exploring the ruins and spoils.

Cerin finally reached her breaking point, "Treebeard, would you be alright doing this task on your own for a short while? I am quite stiff and need to stretch my legs."

"Yes, I can do fine by my lonesome, my Lady. I must say, though, that I have enjoyed your company while doing this dreary task. Even a tree can get bored of staring at the same image after too long a time," he laughed, his bark creaking at the movement.

Cerin smiled and gingerly got up from her place on the large rock. She grimaced at the thought of getting wet, but she desperately wanted to move around. She jumped from her spot and landed with a large splash. Her legs haphazardly tossed the cold water around her with each step. She wandered freely and absentmindedly, lost in her thoughts. She hadn't gotten too far before a glint caught her eye and drew her from her the recesses of her thoughts. Cerin scanned the area in front of her trying to catch sight of whatever had distracted her. Quickly, she found the source of the glint – a dark sphere lay below the rippling surface and caught the light just so. She hesitated in picking it up to examine it, her hands hovering stiffly just above the water's surface. Making a decision, she thrust her hands below the frigid water and grabbed it securely. Standing erect once again, Cerin immediately knew what the globe was and quickly adverted her widened eyes.

"Oh, heavens…," she trailed off, her face slack and thoroughly stunned by her find.

She was holding one of the fabled lost palantírs, or seeing stones. Growing more uncomfortable the longer she held it and knowing that it posed a monumental threat to her safety, she quickly decided her next course of action. She rushed to unclasp her cloak and whipped it around her find in a secure knot. She would be sure to guard it and inform Gandalf of its existence at the soonest opportunity.

For a good while Cerin continued her slow walk around the decimated inner courtyard surrounding the base of the tower, her cloak with a decidedly obvious spherical weight in it slung over her shoulder. She had managed to stretch enough to be rid of the stiffness, but she was now feeling waterlogged. So, despite not looking forward to more hours of drudgery, she began to move faster than she had been in hopes of returning to her spot on the dry rock face _above_ the water's surface.

***.*.*.*.***

Aragorn straightened his weary form from its slumped state in the uncomfortable saddle. Beside him rode Legolas with Gimli seated behind him and grumbling all the while. In front of them travelled Gandalf, Theoden, the King of Rohan, and Eomer, the next in line for the throne. They formed but a small group. They had been riding for a full day's time from the mountainside fortress of Helms Deep to Isengard, which was now just on the horizon.

Aragorn was silent as he listened to the odd snort from the steeds and the muffled sounds of the quiet conversations around him. Gimli would start up the already old argument of who the true winner of the orc slaying contest really was. He was obstinately ignoring the fact that both Cerin and Legolas had beaten him. From the slightly pained look upon Legolas' face, Aragorn figured he, too, was finding the argument tiring. The Ranger found himself wishing that the structure on the horizon would reach them all the sooner. He wished for rest, both from travel and the rigors of this war. He had not spoken of his feelings with Legolas or Gimli, but he simply knew that they shared the same sentiment. Cerin was definitely feeling the uncertainty and fatigue of this war. The Man felt all the wearier by the simple knowledge that the conflict was far from over.

Speaking of Cerin, Aragorn was still less than pleased with her decision to go to Isengard alone. She was being reckless and Gandalf was enabling her. He had expressed as much to the wizard. Oh, he knew that she could take care of herself. Surviving alone in the wilderness for years and fighting in battle with the fellowship proved that. But, why did she have to go alone? Was it wrong for him to be angry that she was going needlessly into danger...?

Aragorn was dragged from his thoughts by the sudden ceasing of Gandalf's conversation. Looking over to where the wizard rode near the King, the Ranger saw him looking off into the distance to his right. Following his gaze, Aragorn saw a decidedly horse-like figure ambling slowly across the open plain. He watched as Gandalf rode slightly away from the massive group and raised his staff. A shrill whistle erupted from the white-robed figure that travelled on the blowing winds to the beast. The animal's head raised and turned in the wizard's direction, curious. Gandalf let loose another whistle and the horse started galloping at an amazing pace towards the company. Soon it stood before them, the massive and beautiful creature greeting Shadowfax and Gandalf in turn.

"I thought I recognized you, my friend. Now where is your master, Greatheart?" Aragorn heard Gandalf ask the steed. He felt some relief as he watched Greatheart turn to look out towards the looming fortress of Isengard.

"Come, friend, let us find your master," Gandalf said before he and the horse returned to the ranks of the caravan. No one outwardly questioned the actions of the wizard.

Despite the small diversion, they eventually reached the decimated outer wall of the fallen stronghold. As they got closer, Aragorn spied two small figures perched atop the remains of the wall. He could faintly hear their conversation.

"Nothing like a good smoke after a hard day's work, I say," he heard Pippin say, satisfied.

"Well, you haven't ever done a hard day's work, Pippin," Merry said sarcastically. He then heard Pippin simply snort in response.

The caravan came to a halt before entering the fortress and turned to take in their greeting party. Aragorn could only smile at the sight of the reclined figures of Merry and Pippin who were obviously enjoying a good specimen of pipe weed.

"Ah, welcome, my Lords, to Isengard," Merry said grandly while gesturing to the rumble behind him.

"Hmph! You lead us on a wild chase for days on end, and yet here you are - feasting and enjoying a relaxing smoke!" Gimli sputtered, disgruntled.

"We are basking in the glow of victory and are simply enjoying some well-earned comforts," Pippin said in a justified manner, "And besides the pipe weed, my good dwarf, we've sampled the wonders of the salted pork and the many other delicacies we found when we raided the store rooms. It was delicious, if I may say so," Pippin smiled deviously.

"We merely sampled the spoils, we did," Merry said, then took a satisfied drag from his pipe.

Gimli only laughed happily in response. "Ah, I've missed ye two, I have!"

"Have you been behaving, Pippin?" Gandalf interceded.

Pippin seemed to finally take in the figure at the fore of the group. He simply stood staring at the returned wizard, gob smacked. He actually held his breath long enough that he started choking on his lungful of smoke before coming to his senses after Merry smacked him about the back of his head.

"I-I have, yes," he stuttered, recovering from his violent hacking.

"Good, then may I ask who is in charge now?" Gandalf smiled.

Pippin perked up at the question, but Merry beat him to answering. "That's Treebeard, sir! He's taken over management, he has. Come, we'll take you to him!"

With that, the two turned and headed inside the crumbling fort. The caravan began to follow them, easily keeping up with their short stride despite their excited pace. All the while the group listened to the hobbits' retelling of the demise of the stronghold. Soon the two little ones had to be placed behind Aragorn atop his horse because the water was getting steadily deeper. They got closer and closer to the tower, quickly spying the tree-like form of who could only be Treebeard.

"Ah, my friend, how do you fare?" Gandalf hailed to the Ent as the group halted before the tower.

"Isengard is now in ruins. The Ents have risen from their quiet lives and defeated the traitor of a wizard!" he proclaimed, "But now he hides in his tower like a simpering damsel."

"We ride from victory at Helms Deep to see the destruction of Isengard and I can say that I am pleased," Theoden said to Treebeard.

"Yes, Horseman, let this be another victory for the enemy of the Shadow," Treebeard said in his low, creaking voice.

The conversation came to a sudden halt as Greatheart let out a loud whinny and bolted away from Shadowfax's side.

"I had wondered where she had gotten to. Been absent for a good while, she has," the Ent said thoughtfully. Everyone present gave into their curiosity and followed the path of the giant horse. There just beyond the horse was a slender figure that was known to all.

***.*.*.*.***

She was carefully making her way back over the rough and wet terrain when she was broken from her roaming thoughts by the sounds of great splashes in the distance. The woman looked up to take in a welcome sight. Her companion and trusted mount, Greatheart, was racing towards her at a great speed. He came to an abrupt stop before her, splashing her with water. She let loose a brilliant smile and a loud, cheerful laugh before moving to embrace her friend's muzzle.

"I have missed you, friend, and I am glad for your safety," she said happily, relieved, "I will say that I was a little worried for you."

She withdrew from the hug to peer behind the animal and into the distance, taking in the sight of a familiar company near Treebeard. After quickly tying her bundled cloak to Greatheart's back, she maneuvered Greatheart around so she could swing up onto the saddle in an obviously practiced manner. With a small kick, Cerin moved Greatheart into a slow walk towards the group. The ground was uneven and filled with rubble. She was amazed that Greatheart had made it so quickly over to her. They were halfway to the group when Greatheart slipped in his footing and almost sent her careening into the water. Cerin immediately dismounted and grasped his reins to lead him through the murky water. Her sight zeroed in on Aragorn, who peered at her moving figure with an unknown expression. She failed to notice the two small figures behind him on Brego. Cerin motioned Greatheart to a halt a small distance away.

"Is this not a heartening sight?" Theoden called out with arms spread. His newly cleaned armor sparkled in the sunlight.

"It is my Lord, though I can take no credit for this victory. All thanks should be given to the ents," Cerin admitted before addressing the others, "You are well met, my friends. I trust your journey here was smooth?"

"The journey was pleasant, if not a little long. I hope yours was just as pleasant," Gandalf stated from the fore of the group, his words sounding more like a question.

"It was uneventful," Cerin said simply.

At once, she remembered her dark quarry, "I found something that I believe would spark your interest, Gandalf."

She turned around to Greatheart's hind quarter to reach the wrapped sphere. The quiet was broken by what sounded like two high-pitched cries and a loud splash. Cerin startled and was halfway turned back around when something slammed bodily into her legs.

"Whaaa-!" she yelled in surprise.

Her balance was completely thrown off kilter by the hit. She titled backwards and hit the water with a great splat. Water flew in every direction. Cerin floundered for a second under the surface of the water before her senses returned to her and she used her arms to push herself up. She sputtered and hacked, trying to get her breath back. With a swipe across her eyes to clear them, she looked down at her legs. There clinging to each leg with a brutal grip were Merry and Pippin. They were both soaked like she was and were staring up at her with heartbroken expressions and tears running rivers down their cherubic faces. Their excited babbling was incoherent and filled her ears. Cerin managed to sit up from her awkward position, which prompted the two hobbits to release her legs and leap up to wrap their arms around her chest. This time Cerin was able to brace for the impact and did not go flying back under the water. Water ran in rivulets down Cerin's face and her hair hung in heavy, dripping waves down her back as she looked down at their large, wet eyes. Only random words could be made out amongst their babbling and sobbing.

"So sorry-"

"Never meant to-"

"We still love you-"

"Please forgive-"

"Don't leave-!"

"Shhhh, hush now," Cerin finally interrupted in a soft voice, "What's all this now?"

"We're so sorry, Cerin! We did not want you to leave the fellowship. It was a mistake!" Merry exclaimed, upset.

"We miss you! Don't leave again!" Pippin added.

"Now, loves, calm yourselves. I am not leaving. I am here for good," she said gently as her hands smoothed the wet curls back from their foreheads. She smoothed their hair for a few moments before wrapping her arms around their small forms and hugging them tightly.

"If there is any forgiveness needed, it should be you forgiving me," she said seriously, but they only looked confused, so she explained, "I hid a secret from you all, one which was very important."

"We don't care about that, Cerin," Pippin said just as seriously, which was a drastic change from the carefree hobbit she was used to.

"Then we are all forgiven here?" Gandalf asked from atop Shadowfax, who now stood beside their drenched forms.

Cerin, Merry, and Pippin looked up at Gandalf from the ground with pink cheeks. She turned a sheepish gaze to everyone behind Gandalf and spotted several cheeky grins at their wet state. Cerin gave the wizard a lopsided smile and nodded. Standing, Cerin lifted the hobbits one at a time into Greatheart's saddle. She grinned up at them and shivered at a passing breeze. Her clothes clung to her like a second skin and she was cold, but she was happy.

After a silent pause, she looked back and caught the slight turn of everyone's gaze to behind her and above her head. Knowing that their attention had something to do with the oppressive tower looming behind her, she reeled Greatheart around. She immediately took in the white-robed figure standing on the very balcony she had been busy observing the entire afternoon.

'_It seems Saruman has finally come out to face the ruin of his defeat. The coward can do nothing more now than hide in his hole and fling barbs at the victors.'_

As she stared, Saruman's eyes swept over those gathered and came to a rest on her. His stare took on an unpleasant gleam, one that spoke of secret knowledge. It repulsed Cerin and made her uneasy. She suddenly became wholly aware that she had stupidly forgotten about the orb she found. She actually had to force herself not to fidget uncomfortably or motion to the orb's location on Greatheart. Glancing sideways, she saw that Gandalf's face was utterly serious as he regarded his former mentor and friend.

"Ah, it seems you've washed your robes, Gandalf. White certainly becomes you," Saruman sneered.

"The Powers have deigned me fit to walk the path of which you have strayed," the Istari replied.

"And stray, I did, you fool! So much could have been achieved, conquered, had you not interfered! Do you think by removing one ally from Sauron's hand you will win the war? Ha! More of the peoples of Middle Earth walk in the darkness of the Shadow than you think! You've won this battle, but the outcome of the war will not be in your favor," Saruman argued, enraged and bitter.

"The light of hope fills more hearts than you would believe, Saruman. It filled yours once, too."

"Take your sentimentality and leave me be, you fool! Your false hopes for victory and your ideals cloud the reality of Sauron's impending reign. Go, before you make me sick with your flowery hopes," he sneered viscously.

"You will remain here, Saruman, locked in your precious tower and surrounded by the evidence of your defeat and betrayal," Gandalf intoned with finality.

Saruman didn't offer a verbal response, but merely a final sneer before turning and moving off of the balcony back into the shadow of the tower with a final swish of his billowing robes travelling through the silence.

"The coward'll be shut up for a good while, I expect," Treebeard said slowly.

"Most likely, if this afternoon is any indication," Cerin said flatly.

"What's this, Cerin?" Pippin asked, holding up the roundish cloth bundle he had found behind him in the saddle bag.

"Ah, never you mind about that, Pip," Cerin said with deceptive lightness and was quick to take it from his curious hands.

She ignored the stares of those around her and immediately handed the wrapped sphere to the mounted wizard. At his quizzical expression from her lack of explanation, she merely gestured to the object in his hands. She watched as he unfolded the cloth and as his face hardened at what he found.

"It seems we have a lot to discuss," Gandalf said quietly. Cerin agreed wholeheartedly.

***.*.*.*.***

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, nor any of the affiliated characters. I only own Cerin (my OC). Any references to the books or movies are acknowledged. Any infringement on my part is purely accidental and unintended.

***.*.*.*.***

Chapter 15:

Honor the Dead

***.*.*.*.***

They rode hard for three days before they arrived at the hilltop city of Edoras. It had taken longer than necessary to leave Isengard because both hobbits had insisted on riding with the woman, and had argued quite spiritedly before she suggested that they could take turns. Things went smoothly after they shook hands in agreement. In those three days, Cerin learned of everything Merry and Pippin had been up to since they left Lothlorien. She heard again of Boromir's heroic death and their capture by the uruk hai. She tried hard not to think of their treatment while in the hands of the Enemy, and thankfully they glossed over those details. They spoke of how they had escaped into Fangorn forest during a raid by the Rohirrim on the uruks. They were found by Treebeard who accused them of being orcs! Pip still seemed to be feeling that insult. The tree herder took them to a council of the ents to speak on Saruman's lengthening arm. Apparently, both of them were bored stiff at the meeting.

"All councils are spoken in Old Entish, and Old Entish takes a long time to say. If it not be worth taking the time to say, then it not be worth discussin'," Pippin said in a lower-pitched impression of Treebeard.

The humor was somewhat lost on Cerin, but Merry was tickled silly by the act. It was amazing the difference she felt in herself after being around the hobbits again. Their lightheartedness did wonders on her disposition and outlook on the world. It was difficult to be so full of despair when around such innocence. Her troubles did feel lighter when she was around Merry and Pippin, but they still weighed on her mind. Cerin distinctly felt the absence of Frodo and Sam. There was no forgetting that they were alone somewhere and in danger. Her worry for them grew each day that there was no news of the pair.

The journey to Edoras was uneventful. Cerin did not have any confrontations with Aragorn simply because she had not spoken to him since leaving Helms Deep. It was not an act of avoidance on her part. Valar knew he would mention it to her if he thought anything of the sort. Alas, no, she was not avoiding the Man. She was just too busy with the hobbits and enjoying their company to pay much notice to him. Cerin did catch an occasional probing glance from Aragorn when they were scattered about the fire at the end of a long day, but he did not speak. Cerin was also distracted by arguing with Gimli. The dwarf seemed to be under some illusion that he had won the slaying contest at Helms Deep. Cerin may not have won – that honor went to Legolas – but, Gimli certainly did not win. She told him of this, and she told him often because he would not let the matter lie. Legolas had apparently tried to make his case with their stout friend and given up. Cerin did the same on the third day.

When they arrived in Edoras at dusk, it was livelier than when Cerin arrived for her first visit, but the city was noticeably emptier than it once was. Theoden's and Eomer's arrival was hailed, and they were met at the stables by the Captain Gamling and several stable hands. Cerin was pulled away by Eowyn upon entering the hall to wash and change clothes. Eowyn was gracious and gave Cerin a beautiful gown of deep blue with gold trimming. It was the nicest piece of clothing she had worn for a long while. She asked why she could not wear a simple riding dress and was told that there would be a feast to honor the dead that evening.

Night had fallen when Cerin finally entered the torch-lit hall. Tables and benches filled the room in neat rows. Chatter and conversation filled her ears. People already filled most of the seats and she could not spot the fellowship, so she took a place along the wall and observed. She felt out of place in her finery. The long sleeves pooled from her hands like water and the high collar embossed with gold suited her likes. Her hair was washed and fell in long, auburn waves down her back. Oh, she did feel handsome in the deep midnight fabric, no mistake, but the gown she wore was made for a daughter of kings, which she certainly was not. She longed for her breeches or even a plainer dress. So, she stood on the outskirts of the room trying to hide her awkwardness.

As time passed, the room swelled with people and the noise grew with their arrival. She took the cup of ale offered to her by a passing server and sipped. Suddenly, the hall quieted and Cerin followed everyone's stares to the dais where Theoden was rising from his throne with Eowyn and Eomer bedside him. The King stared solemnly out over the room and lifted his goblet. Unanimously, everyone took hold of their drinks and rose from their seats.

"Tonight we honor those who gave their blood to defend this country. Hail the victorious dead!" he intoned seriously and raised his drink higher in a toast to their lost brethren.

"Hail!" the room repeated in a heartfelt manner and lifted their drinks high before taking a deep sip.

"Hail," Cerin said softly and slowly brought her mug to her parted lips.

The image of Haldir's lifeless, glassy eyes staring up at her and his blood staining her hands flashed in her mind's eye. Her eyes clenched shut in desperation to expel the thought. With a deep drag from her cup, she forced her mind to turn to the happenings around her. After their drink of thanks, the room had transformed into a place of merry tidings. Food was being passed to and fro and conversation resumed. The noise grew steadily louder as people consumed more and more ale and their bellies filled. She spent some amount of time on the outer edges of the room nibbling on a bread roll she had snagged from a passing tray.

Deciding to finally leave the shadows, she stepped towards the middle of the room looking for a friend in the lively setting. The space was rather packed with revelers. She had mind to turn about face and return to her place against the wall, but she caught sight of a familiar wizard across the hall. She looked down to watch her step as she moved through a close group of people. She glanced up to try to spot Gandalf again, but the moving nature of the crowd thwarted her efforts. Deciding to remain where she was, she stared out across the room for several minutes. At last, the bodies parted just enough for her to catch sight of not Gandalf, but Aragorn. Her eyes were transfixed on his smiling face. It was not often she saw that look from him. Certainly she had not seen him smile so at her lately. She deserved whatever ire he felt for her since Helms Deep. Cerin would let him enjoy this night before seeking his forgiveness.

Lost in her musings, Cerin was unaware of how long she had been staring at the Ranger. A quiet cough pulled her from her fixed gaze. Her head swiveled to locate the source. An amused looking Eowyn stood beside her. The shield maiden's lips twitched, fighting a grin. With small steps, the woman approached Cerin.

"I am happy for you," she said sincerely in a hushed voice.

Cerin could only look at the woman confusedly. She had no notion of what Eowyn spoke of. Eowyn's expression became slightly exasperated before she nodded her head in Aragorn's direction.

"Aragorn is honorable. He is a good man."

Finally understanding, Cerin's eyes widened in shock, "No, I –,"

"Cerin, I have seen the admiring glances – from both of you. Do not squander your chances. Who is to know if you will ever have another?"

Unable to form a reply, she simply watched as Eowyn gave her an encouraging pat on the arm and turned to stride back into the crowd. A particularly loud laugh rose above the others and jolted Cerin from the thoughts she had again been lost in. Cerin vowed to think on the shield maiden's words later and moved to approach the fellowship again. She found Gimli seated and ravaging meat from a bone with gusto. Gandalf and Aragorn stood nearby and looked to be in a conversation.

"Lass! We've been'a wonderin' where you were, girl!" Gimli grumbled happily around his mouthful of meat.

"You look different, Lass," the dwarf said vaguely after swallowing. Cerin merely lifted a single eyebrow in question to his meaning. His face reddened in what she assumed was a blush and he started mumbling. Finally, he took a bite to prevent him from giving a reply.

"Ah, Cerin, you look lovely," Gandalf's warm voice intoned.

"Thank you, Gandalf. You look pristine, as always," she joked with a grin, which faded as Aragorn did not speak and simply stared at her with a slack expression. His lack of reaction quickly brought her insecurities about her appearance back to the surface.

"Yes, well, a wizard must look the part," he said with an amused smile.

"Where is Legolas? I have not seen him," Cerin asked.

"The pointy-ear left already," Gimli mumbled sourly, still embarrassed.

"Oh, but the feast has just begun. Not a festive elf, is he?" Cerin said obviously, "Well, I am in need of more drink. Excuse me, I shall return."

She carefully made her way to a nearby table and poured more ale into her cup from their nearly drained pitcher. On her return, she found Gimli to be missing and a dirty table left in his absence. Cerin sidled up beside Gandalf and Aragorn and glanced questioningly back to Gimli's empty seat.

"Second helpings," Gandalf said in answer just as the dwarf in question slowly came into view carrying a heaping plate of food. Cerin watched as he immediately started enjoying his hoard with his normal immaculate manners. Aragorn spoke then and ended the lull in conversation. His words pulled Cerin's focus back to the men next to her.

"Is there any news of Frodo?" Aragorn asked of Gandalf. The serious subject was a direct contrast to the lighthearted jubilation around them.

"None," he said sadly and disheartened.

"We have time. Every day they move closer to their goal," Aragorn said hopefully.

"Do we know that?" Gandalf questioned in an unsure tone. His face showed his tremulous hope.

"They live. I am worried… but I believe they live," Cerin assured from beside them. Her eyes were alight with her belief as she met the wizard's gaze.

"What does your heart tell you?" Aragorn spoke softly, looking solely at Gandalf.

Gandalf's eyes swiveled from Cerin's to his and slowly lost their hopeless glaze, "That they are alive."

Their conversation was interrupted as sounds of jubilant singing rose over the din. There atop a table with everyone gathered watching them, were Merry and Pippin doing a jig while holding mugs and singing loudly. Cerin moved closer to watch their show.

"You can drink your fancy ales,

You can drink them by the flagon,

But the only brew for the brave and true

Comes from the Green Dragon!"

With a clink of their mugs, the two hobbits drained their ale to the sounds of applause around them. Cerin let loose a happy laugh at their antics and looked back towards her friends. Aragorn and Gandalf had resumed their conversation and were again regarding each other with solemn expressions. She didn't want to interrupt, so she contemplated joining Gimli, but the thought of watching food get trapped in his beard was decidedly unpleasant. With no options for company, Cerin felt her tolerance for the gathering with its loud and crowded atmosphere leaving her quickly. She made a decision to leave then and quit the hall.

She eventually found herself in the stables tending to Greatheart and simply enjoying the peace of the horses. The rhythmic motion of the brush over her mount's smooth coat soothed her. Her mind had been running wild with thoughts of Frodo and Sam. She spoke the truth to Gandalf in saying that she believed them to be alive, but that did not stem her worry for their safety. They were two stout hobbits, but could they handle the dangers that were surely seeking them? She had faith in their ingenuity, but it would not hurt to have some news of them. This waiting was excruciating.

She also thought on Eowyn's words earlier. It was true that she held a deep affection for Aragorn, but that did not mean there was talk of marriage afoot. He did not even know of her feelings! Even if she desired such a union, Aragorn was to be King of Gondor. A peasant, let alone the heir of Sauron, would not be seen as a suitable bride in the eyes of the people. She let loose a self-deprecating laugh at that thought. They had shared some moments together and she had seen affection in his eyes, but Cerin could not bring herself to read more into such events. He had not shown any active interest in her beyond friendship, so she would not delude herself into thinking there would be more someday. But, despite her best efforts, she could not dash that last sliver of hope in her heart that he returned her affections.

When Cerin's thoughts finally settled and she left the stables, she saw that the moon was high in the sky and about to begin its descent. The lack of raucous noise on the wind gave proof that the feast was long over. She walked the short distance up the road to the hall. Her slippers whispered quietly against the stone as she climbed the large stairs leading to the hall entrance. At the top of the steps, she turned and looked out across the vast plains of Rohan and the endless sky above. The stars were bright that night and speckled the darkness. She reveled in the silence and stillness of the night as a light breeze caressed her skin.

A movement on the edge of her vision caught her attention. Looking over, she spotted Legolas standing near the edge of the entranceway and looking to the east. Cerin walked up to her elven friend and followed his gaze. Cerin was the one to break the stillness by speaking.

"I did not see you at the feast," she whispered accusingly, a small grin gracing her pink lips.

Legolas pulled his eyes from the distance and turned his head to take in her form. His eyes took on an amused glint and his mouth twitched, "If I had known you would be attending in such finery, I surely would have remained longer than I did."

"Do not be sad that I was prettier than you this evening," she teased.

He smiled in response before he gave he said sincerely, "It suits you, my friend."

Cerin could not stop the flush from covering her cheeks at his words and offered him a shy smile in thanks. "Truthfully, why did you not attend tonight?"

His faced twisted in a grimace and lightly pointed to his ear, "My hearing is sharper than one would think. A gathering like this one pains me."

"Ah, I am aware of the sensitivity of elven hearing. Rúmil, Orophin, and I used to wake Haldir by making irritating sounds…" she trailed off sadly.

Legolas' eyes darkened in grief, "He died honorably, Cerin."

"I know," she whispered thickly. Thankfully her eyes remained clear. Until this night, she had not been able to speak Haldir's name without her eyes welling with tears.

After her acknowledgment, they passed the time in silence, each left with their thoughts. Cerin could feel Legolas tensing beside her more and more as the moments passed. Before she could question him, both were disturbed by the sound of light footsteps from behind them. Turning, Cerin saw Aragorn approaching with his pipe in hand. The Man stopped beside Legolas and took his time lighting the pipe weed. The smell of the burning weed filled Cerin's nose and the smoke from his exhale floated away on the wind.

"Something stirs in the east," Legolas warned quietly, "A sleepless malice."

His eyes remained focused on the distant mountains. Cerin glanced at the elf, concerned. Legolas was silent for a short time, and then he quickly met their eyes in worry.

"The eye of the Enemy is moving."

Dread washed over Cerin in waves. Anxiety gripped her heart and squeezed her chest. An image of an onyx orb glinting below waves pushed through the chaos in her mind and compelled her to move. With no warning, she turned and rushed away from the two beside her. Aragorn followed her form with a concerned look, but Legolas stood with his eyes fixated on the east.

Cerin's feet ran with purpose to the fellowship's shared room. She had never shown any signs of foresight like Elrond, but at this moment she knew that room was where she needed to go. She skidded almost head on into the heavy door and grappled with the knob to give it a sharp turn. She thrust the door open wide and almost fell into the room in her haste. There in front of her was a ghostly white Pippin writhing painfully about on the ground while tightly grasping the palantír that was glowing orange as though it were aflame. With no thought to the consequences, Cerin foolishly pushed herself across the room and ripped the orb from the hobbit's small hands. With the source of the evil in her hands, the room fell away around her and her world became the flames.

***.*.*.*.***

"He's here," Legolas whispered ominously, his face slack in shock and building fright. He whipped around to look at Aragorn, his emotions laid bare in his eyes.

Aragorn and Legolas immediately rushed with thundering steps through the large wood doors into the hall. They followed the extreme sense of evil and turned quickly down a side hallway towards their company's shared room. The door was standing wide open as they ran through into the mess. They slid to a stop just inside the room in time to watch Cerin snatch an orb of flames from Pippin's small hands. The woman immediately froze with her gaze locked on what she held, deaf to Gandalf's yells. They stared as her body stiffened even more and her face drained of all color. Evil flowed from what she held in her white hands. The moment spanned only a few seconds but it felt like hours passed. In the next second she had dropped the glowing orb and collapsed limply to the wooden floor. The palantír rolled away from her body and Gandalf ambled quickly to cover it with a blanket. The instant it was covered the presence of evil vanished, but the residual discomfort remained.

Aragorn moved to Cerin's side and lifted her up to lean against him. Her head fell into the crook of his elbow and her torso lay against his bent legs. He raised a hand to lightly slap her pallid cheeks but she didn't respond. The Ranger looked up from Cerin's face and took in what was happening across the room.

"You fool of a Took!" Gandalf shouted in rage as he strode to the floored hobbit. Gandalf crouched beside Pippin's quivering form and leveled him with a most serious gaze.

"What did you see?" Gandalf asked in a grave voice. Pippin only sputtered a whine in response, so Gandalf lightly smacked his cheek and repeated his question in the same tone.

"I saw a tree," Pippin cried with true terror in his face, "It was a white tree in a stone courtyard. The tree was dead and the city was burning!"

"Minas Tirith," Gandalf said lowly to himself in realization.

"What else did you see?"

"I saw – I saw him! Gandalf, I saw him! He asked me my name, but I did not answer!" Pippin cried in fear. The trauma of the event would scar him and it showed in his eyes.

"Pippin, what did you tell him of Frodo and the Ring? Pippin, tell me!" Gandalf shook Pippin in his urgency.

"Nothing! I told him nothing!" Pippin yelled, "Forgive me!"

The hobbit dissolved into sobs and curled into himself there on the floor. Gandalf stayed kneeling there, considering the truth of his words. A loud groan broke through the tension and everyone looked to Cerin's slumped form in Aragorn's arms. The wizard moved to her side to question her.

"You reckless woman! What would possess you to grab the palantír?" he chastised rudely.

"I do not know," she said quietly while sitting up slowly. Aragorn kept his arm on her back to hold her shaking form steady. Her gown pooled around her form on the ground in a royal blue puddle.

"Cerin, tell me now, what did you see?"

Cerin lifted her face and met the deathly serious face of the wizard. In that moment, Aragorn saw the shock lift and fear fill her eyes. He watched as her hands clenched her knees until they were white with tension.

"I saw a monstrous glowing eye," she whispered in a weak voice, "The eye was ringed in roaring flames. There was so much evil…When it focused on me, I thought my heart would stop."

"Cerin, did he ask you anything?"

"He asked for my name."

"What did you say, girl?" Gandalf asked shortly. His frustration was growing at having to pull every answer from the woman.

"I did not answer," she said honestly.

Gandalf reached out and lifted her downturned face to meet his steely eyes, "Does he know who you are to him?"

Cerin was quiet for a few seconds before whispering in an even quieter voice, "No, not yet."

Aragorn felt immense relief in that moment. They had all been aware of the danger should Sauron ever obtain knowledge of Cerin, but this was the first time that there was a threat of compromising her secret. The Man could not begin to imagine how things would complicate had she told Sauron anything about their quest.

He watched as Gandalf turned and moved to secure the source of their woes. He offered an arm when Cerin leaned forward and shakily tried to stand. She stood before him looking like an unsure child. Her face was a mess of emotions as she briefly met his gaze before lowering her head again and striding hurriedly from their room. He could only look on as she left, knowing that she needed to be alone for a short while. He would seek her out later.

***.*.*.*.***

Cerin drew in another deep gulp of the cold wind and released it in a shaky stream. She had been standing at the top of the steps outside the hall for some time, and only now was her terror beginning to fade. Her fear may have been leaving her, but that was hardly all she felt. She was scared of what she saw in the orb and what she might have cost the fellowship by grabbing it as she did. She hated herself for endangering them so. She was anxious to know the possible consequences of the past night. There were so many emotions coursing through her that she could not begin to focus on just one. She stood staring out over Rohan trying to calm her mind until the sun's light licked at the horizon. As the sky lightened to a brilliant soft red, the soft sounds of the hall doors closing and then quiet footsteps approaching reached her. She instinctively knew it was Aragorn joining her.

"Every time I close my eyes I see raging flames and a monstrous eye. The heat from the fire licks at my face as the world fades away and it focuses solely on me. I will never forget the terror I felt," Cerin admitted to him in a breathy voice. She continued to stare into the distance at the rising sun.

Aragorn did not respond for some time. Her admission hung in the silence between them, but they were content in the quiet. His silence and quiet companionship was what she craved at that moment.

"Pippin has not slept again this night. It is likely he sees the same image in his mind," he said lowly.

"What he did was foolish. I should have known his interest would be piqued when he asked about it at Isengard. Hobbits are such curious creatures – foolish, curious creatures."

"You were foolish as well, Cerin. It was reckless to blindly grab the palantír as you did," he chastised.

Cerin sighed, "This I know. I was foolhardy at best and at worst… I dread to think of what could have resulted if I had revealed anything of importance."

They remained quiet for some time again contemplating the truth in her words.

"Aragorn, I fear this apology is past due, but I must ask you to forgive me. You were right in your anger at Helms Deep. I was acting like a child, and I forgot my duty," she turned and peered up into his face with a sincere expression.

"You are forgiven, Cerin. I should not have yelled at you as I did. I am partly to blame," he said somewhat ashamedly. Cerin shook her head negatively at his last statement.

"You were right," she said again, "I do run from my problems. It is so much easier to run when you are alone in the world and you do not have any deep attachments."

Cerin paused and gave Aragorn a searching look. She sought some sort of sign that he would respond favorably to her next words and was gathering the courage to continue. It would definitely be easier to avoid this moment, but her declaration to stop running and Eowyn's encouragement fortified her decision. Seeing care and concern in his expression, she continued.

"I realize now that that is not true for me anymore," she said lowly and looked meaningfully into Aragorn's eyes.

His eyes slowly widened in understanding before he calmed and offered her a small, happy smile, "Then I am glad for I have formed many deep attachments here."

His calloused hand slowly rose and traced across her pale cheek before cupping her face in the gentlest of touches. He gazed deeply into her caring face as his other hand smoothed her wild waves back from her face before falling and caressing down the length of her arm.

"But one is of a very different nature," he finished with a look just as meaningful as hers.

Her lips spread into a joyful smile at his words. She let her eyes fall closed as he bent and placed a light, chaste kiss at the corner of her mouth. She looked up as he pulled away and took in his matching happy expression.

"Cerin, I must tell you how lovely you look. I could not tell you at the feast because you struck me dumb," he admitted with affection.

"I had feared you did not like it," she said while looking down at the gown.

"Impossible," He said quietly. He softly stroked her cheek again before pulling away and taking her arm in hand.

"Come, you need rest, Cerin," he chided lightly and led her towards the hall's doors.

"You always say that," she mumbled, her lips twitching into a grin.

***.*.*.*.***

Some hours later, the fellowship was gathered in the hall, which showed almost no signs of the feast the night before. Cerin stood by Merry and a slumped Pippin near the warm fire. Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli stood across the hall from her. They were all watching Gandalf as he addressed Theoden.

"This morning Pippin took it upon himself to look into the palantír found at Isengard. He says that he told Sauron nothing of our purpose or of Frodo and the Ring," Gandalf said with a cold voice.

"I saw no lie in Pippin's eyes. He is a fool, but an honest fool," he continued with a reprimanding look in the hobbit's direction.

Cerin could feel the weight of the wizard's gaze from across the room. She would hate to be the one it was directed at. So, she understood when Pippin's shoulder slumped even further.

"We have been strangely fortunate in this. He saw a glimpse of the Enemy's plan in the palantír. He moves to strike the city of Minas Tirith. His defeat at Helms Deep has shown him one thing; the heir of Elendil has come forth. Men are not as weak as he supposed. There is courage still and strength enough to challenge him. He fears this. He will not risk the peoples of middle earth uniting under one banner. If the beacons of Gondor are lit, Rohan must be ready for war," Gandalf said, impassioned. He looked imploringly to Theoden, but his face fell when the King remained silent for a long moment.

"Tell me, why should we ride to the aid of those who did not come to ours? What do we owe Gondor?" Theoden asked bitterly. He looked secure in his decision to abandon Gondor.

Cerin watched as Aragorn grew frustrated with the Horse Lord, "I will go."

"No," Gandalf said immediately.

"They must be warned," Aragorn argued with a tense expression.

"And they will be," Gandalf said loudly and gave Aragorn a look to be silent. The Ranger angrily crossed his arms in protest, but remained quiet.

"Understand this: things are now in motion that cannot be undone. I will ride to Minas Tirith, and I will not be going alone," Gandalf said seriously and looked pointedly at Pippin.

Theoden recognized the end of the meeting and did not plan on involving himself with Gondor, so he turned then and quit the room with only a nod in farewell.

"Come Pippin, we make for Minas Tirith."

Gandalf rushed from the hall into the sunlight of midday with both hobbits, Cerin, and Aragorn on his tail. They followed as he strode quickly down the road towards the stables.

"For all the inquisitive hobbits, Peregrine Took, you are the worst!" Gandalf started on Pippin again, "Hurry!"

"Where are we going?" Pippin asked while trying to keep up with his short stride.

"Why do you always look?" Merry angrily asked from beside him.

"I'm sorry! I just can't help it, but I won't do it again," Pippin said sadly.

"You don't get it, Pip! Sauron believes you have the Ring! You have to leave Edoras," Merry explained shortly

"You're coming with me, right?" Pippin asked desperately. Merry did not offer an answer and rushed ahead of him.

Cerin caught Pippin's terrified expression and grabbed his shoulder in comfort. Pippin grabbed her hand and followed behind into the stables. Gandalf was already preparing Shadowfax when they reached the last stall.

"Aragorn, you cannot ride to Minas Tirith this day because you must come to the city by another road. Follow the river and look to the black ships," Gandalf explained hurriedly.

"Surely you cannot mean the pass through the mountains –," Aragorn began.

"I do and you must," Gandalf said finitely.

"Now, come here Pippin," the wizard called.

Cerin had to gently pry the hobbit's hand from her own and push him towards the horse. Gandalf lifted Pippin up onto Shadowfax's back with ease and then mounted behind Pip's small form. Aragorn and Cerin moved to the side of the stall and watched as Gandalf readied to leave.

"We'll see each other soon, right Merry? Won't we?" Pippin asked, terrified.

"I don't know," Merry said sadly. He stepped back out of the way of the horse and next to Cerin, who grasped his shoulder the same way she did Pippin's before.

"Run, Shadowfax. Show them the meaning of haste!" Gandalf urged the horse and spurred him into motion.

They ran past Aragorn, Cerin, and Merry out to the road, down to the gate, and beyond. Merry immediately broke free from Cerin's gentle hold and ran after Pippin out of the stables. Aragorn and Cerin followed behind his sprinting form all the way to the gate. Cerin looked on as Aragorn ambled up the ladder into the guard tower after Merry. Both males stood staring after the retreating figures of Gandalf and Pippin. It broke her heart to see Merry so upset. Aragorn turned, looking at her uncertainly, and gestured to the frozen Merry. She could only offer him a helpless expression.

***.*.*.*.***

TBC


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, nor any of the affiliated characters. I only own Cerin (my OC). Any references to the books or movies are acknowledged. Any infringement on my part is purely accidental and unintended.

***.*.*.*.***

Chapter 16:

On the Edge of Battle

***.*.*.*.***

Time seemed to slow after Gandalf's and Pippin's departure. The passing minutes felt like hours and the hours felt like days. The anxiety within the fellowship grew as time continued to pass with still no word came from Gondor. They could do nothing but wait and that grated on Cerin's mood. The inactivity allowed her worries to fester and grow. She passed the hours doing menial tasks and keeping Merry company. The small hobbit had become listless and almost lost without his other half. He would often sit outside the stables for hours staring towards the mountain ridge in the distance where the signal beacon sat. Cerin's efforts to draw him from his melancholy were not always successful, but still she tried. Whenever she saw Aragorn outside the Hall, he was staring in the same direction as Merry with a similar pensive expression. Gimli had taken to eating in his boredom and could almost always be found in the Hall with a platter of food or tending to his weapons. Legolas was better at masking his impatience than all of them but even he was watchful of the mountain's peak.

On the fifth day after Gandalf and Pippin rode from Edoras, Cerin ran out of available tasks to distract her mind from the unbearable wait. With nothing else to do, she joined Legolas, Gimli, and Merry in the Hall. It was not long after joining them that she began feeling restless. She could not idly sit and watch Gimli consume one more leg of meat, so she left the others and seated herself on the stone stairs leading down to the road. Cerin simply watched the activity of the city below her. The metallic clings of the black smith hammering came from down the road and rose above the usual sounds of chatter and livestock. She watched people go about their lives and try to forget, for but a moment, that they were on the cusp of war. The sun warmed her skin as she sat lost in her thoughts for a good while.

Suddenly, the peace around her was disturbed and Cerin was pulled from her wandering thoughts. There running up the road towards her at full tilt was Aragorn with a determined look about him. She immediately turned her gaze to the mountain that would determine their fate. There atop the rocky peak was the signal beacon engulfed in roaring flames. Gondor had called for aid and the wait was over. She stood from her seated position and turned to enter the Hall. Aragorn overtook her and slammed the doors to the Hall open in his hurry. Cerin followed behind him into the now silent Hall.

"The beacon of Minas Tirith is lit! Gondor calls for aid!" he called through the silence. He stared determinedly and imploringly at Theoden waiting for the King's response.

Everyone gathered in the Hall watched as Theoden absorbed the news with a surprised expression. The silence was heavy as Theoden's face morphed to determination and he spoke.

"And Rohan will answer. Muster the Rohirrim," he said with strength.

His words sparked a flurry of activity. Voices filled the Hall and everyone moved from their frozen positions. Cerin turned and made her way to the fellowship's rooms to gather her few belongings. It did not take long for her to change into her usual attire of a tunic, breeches, and worn leather boots. It took an equally short amount of time for her to pack the rest of her items. With her pack and weapons in hand, she returned to the Hall where things were well under way. She could hear the sound of the bell that called the men to arms echo through the Hall and rise above the noise of the war preparations.

"We will assemble the army at Dunham, with as many men as can be found," Theoden told Eomer as they studied the many maps spread over a whole table, "You have two days to gather your men. On the third day we ride for Minas Tirith."

Theoden called to the Captain across the room, "Gamling, make haste across the Ridermark. Summon every able-bodied man to Dunham. You have two days."

Both men nodded and left the Hall to ready their parties for departure. It was not long after that the fellowship had to ready their horses. Eowyn, now wearing a beautiful ivy green dress, joined them on their trek to the stables. Cerin spied the saddle bags in the shield maiden's hands and thought to question her.

"Do you mean to join us, Eowyn?" Cerin asked curiously as they entered the musty stables.

"It is tradition that the women of the court accompany the men to the encampment so we may bid them farewell." Eowyn said simply as she led a chestnut stallion from his stall.

"Are you ready for our next adventure, my friend?" Cerin spoke lowly to Greatheart as her hand stroked his soft nose. His gray coat gleamed in the dim light as he shook his head and whickered loudly. Cerin entered his stall and began tacking up the large horse. Once done, she led him out into the daylight and stopped beside the waiting elf, dwarf, and hobbit. She watched the growing crowd of horses and riders around her and tried not to look at the women and children on the edges of the crowd. It was too much to see the wives, mothers, sons, and daughters again say farewell to their fathers and husbands as they left for battle.

"Now is the hour, riders of Rohan! Oaths you have taken! Now, fulfill them all to Lord and land!" Eomer's voice rang above the whickers and whinnies of all the horses.

"Come, Merry," Cerin called to the hobbit. When he reached her side, she lifted his small form atop her horse and mounted behind the hobbit. Aragorn helped Gimli up behind Legolas before getting atop his own horse.

"We ride!" Theoden called and kicked his steed into motion. The riders flowed from the city of Edoras onto the plains of Rohan like a swift river and made for Dunham.

***.*.*.*.***

Cerin rode behind Theoden and Aragorn into the encampment that sat nestled in the shadow of the mountain. The line of riders followed in their wake and stretched until out of sight of those at the fore. Tents were being assembled throughout the clearing. The white of the canvas contrasted brilliantly with the vivid green of the plains. Men filled the makeshift city and bustled about doing tasks like gathering supplies. Many of the men hailed Theoden as the King rode past.

"I bring five hundred men from the Westfold, sire," one Captain called to the King as they rode past.

"Three hundred from Denmark, my Lord," another called.

"And what of the men from Snowbourn?" Theoden asked to the men around him.

"None have come, sire," someone answered.

The Horse Lord was silent the rest of the ride to the plateau near the mountain peak. The fellowship and the King's inner circle climbed the mountainside by a steep winding path cut directly into the face of the mountain. Merry clutched tight to Cerin's waist during the climb while Gimli muttered that it wasn't natural for dwarves to be so high from the ground. Once on the plateau, the fellowship faced a small camp that overlooked the whole army gathered below. The party's horses were taken to be tended to and Cerin was led by Eowyn to a tent they would share. The woman placed her things in the tent and returned to outside. She approached the edge of the camp and looked out over Dunham. White tents spotted the greenery over a wide area and dots that she knew were men milled about busily.

"Theoden says that six thousand men have come," Aragorn said lowly as he stepped up beside Cerin and breaking her from her thoughts.

"Too few, I say," she voiced quietly. Cerin could not quiet the voice in her mind that this would not be enough men to defeat Mordor. Anxiety roiled slowly in her stomach at this thought.

"I said the same. More will come, but not enough," the Ranger said darkly, "We must leave on the morrow at dawn. Gondor's defeat approaches and we cannot afford to delay."

"I understand," Cerin said evenly. Aragorn took a last look out over the camp before gently squeezing Cerin's shoulder and leaving her to her thoughts.

Loud whinnies next broke her from her daze. She turned and spied the horses tied near the rear of the camp spooking. She jogged to where they were tied and grabbed the lead of one of the distressed horses. Cerin shushed the scared creature as she led it to another tether further away from the ominous crevice in the rock wall. She continued to make calming sounds and eventually it had some effect. While leaving the recovered horse to rest, she saw Legolas and Gimli nearby and joined them. Gimli greeted her but the elf continued to stare pensively at the road into the mountain.

"Legolas," Cerin spoke lowly, "What frightens the horses so? They are restless."

"They grow nervous in the shadow of the mountain," Legolas explained quietly.

"Elf, where does that road lead?" Gimli asked tensely from beside them.

"It leads to the Dimholt door. None who venture there ever return," he answered just as tensely.

"It feels evil," Cerin whispered. Her eyes remained locked on the shadowed road until Legolas placed a hand on her arm and pulled her gaze away. Cerin could not hide the worry in her eyes from her friend.

"Let's find some food," Gimli interrupted. Cerin could do nothing but follow them away from the evil shadow.

It was not long before the sun fell behind the peak and night descended. The darkness fell heavily upon the encampment, but the evil of the mountain made the darkness feel heavier. Only a few stars broke through the thick clouds coating the sky, so the only light came from the fires scattered between the tents. Cerin was sitting near one such fire finishing her meal when she felt a tug on her sleeve.

"Cerin, may I speak with you alone?" Merry asked politely while releasing her sleeve.

"Of course, little one. Come with me and we may speak of what troubles you," she said gently with a small smile. Standing, she clasped Merry's shoulder and led him to her tent. They entered and she bade him to sit beside her on her cot.

"Now, what is the matter, Merry?" she asked patiently.

"I wish to fight," he answered hesitantly.

She paused and stared at the hobbit searchingly. She found nothing but determination in his face. "Merry…You know of the dangers you will face, yes?"

"I do, and I will face them – just as Frodo and Sam have faced dangers on this journey," he said with a serious face, one that was completely different from his usual jovial one.

Cerin reached out and cupped his cheek lovingly, "I do not want to see you hurt, little one."

"Cerin," Merry grabbed her hand tightly and stared into her conflicted gaze, "I must do this. Please."

"We all have parts to play," she whispered after a while, then said louder, "then we must find you some armor, Merry, for this outfit simply will not do." She tugged lightly on his tunic in jest. Merry wrapped her in a tight hug which Cerin returned fully.

"Merry, I found some armor that may fit you," Eowyn said quietly as she suddenly entered the tent. She stopped as soon as she spotted Cerin and watched as the woman pulled away from her embrace with the hobbit. Merry looked up at Cerin with a guilty face and let loose a hesitant and nervous chuckle.

"Ah, I may have asked Lady Eowyn before I spoke with you," he offered nervously.

Cerin only sighed heavily in response and waved the shield maiden forward, "Well let us see if anything fits him."

Merry instantly lost his nervous expression and jumped up from the cot and started digging through the pile Eowyn had delivered. None were a perfect match for Merry's small stature but they fit as well as they ever would. Cerin placed a bronze helmet over Merry's curly locks and watched with a grin as it almost fell down over his eyes. His small hand pushed it back up and he grinned at the two women. He fastened the chin strap and looked up at them for their approval.

"Like a true esquire of Rohan," Eowyn said proudly. Merry stood taller at her words.

Finally, Eowyn handed him a short sword and belt. Merry quickly tied it around his waist and pulled the blade free with a sharp tug. It popped free of the sheath and almost cut Eowyn and Cerin who stood in front of him. Both women jumped in surprise while Merry grinned sheepishly at them. Cerin took the blade from him and inspected the edge.

"It needs to be sharpened. The edge is very dull," she told him and handed it back to him hilt first.

"That won't do. You won't slay many orcs with a dull blade, my friend," Eowyn said with a smile and nudged the hobbit out of the tent, "To the smithy!" Eowyn and Cerin exited the tent and watched Merry make his way across the camp to the smithy.

"You should not encourage him, sister," Eomer spoke chidingly from his seat by the fire in front of Cerin's tent.

"You should not doubt him," Eowyn rebuked.

"I do not doubt his heart, just the reach of his arm," Eomer chuckled.

"You should not doubt either of them, my Lord. Hobbits are a stout people and are more capable than many believe. Do not judge their ability wrongly because of their small stature," Cerin said with a hint of anger in her voice. Eomer raised his hands in a placating manner to show apology for his words.

"Why should Merry be left behind? He has just as much cause to go to war as you do," Eowyn argued.

"Why should he not be able to fight for those he loves?" she whispered weakly into the wind. Cerin could do nothing for the shield maiden except place a hand on her arm in understanding.

Their quiet was interrupted by the approach of a soldier. He stopped before the two women and addressed Cerin, "My Lady, King Theoden awaits you."

Cerin looked questioningly at Eowyn to see if she would be alright on her own. Eowyn nodded and signaled for Cerin to go. Cerin gave a last comforting squeeze before releasing her hand and following the soldier to the King's tent. Shortly, they reached the entrance and she was waved inside. Cerin entered and saw Theoden standing towards the rear by a hooded stranger. The King gave her only a blank expression and no explanation before leaving them alone. Confused, she simply watched as the stranger stood from his seat and faced her. His black cloak shined in the candlelight and it rippled as he made to lower the hood.

"Elrond!" Cerin gasped in surprise. She was frozen for only a short while before she ran forward and embraced the noble elf. Elrond returned her hug before pulling away and looking over her with fondness and sadness.

"I had lost hope that we would see each other again after our farewell in Imladris. I cannot say that I am sad to see you…" she trailed off quietly before continuing, "Why have you come, Elrond?"

"I will explain shortly, Cerin, once Aragorn arrives. But now tell me what has become of you?" he evaded.

"Often have I found myself in need of your council, Elrond. This journey has known no end to the tests and challenges of my will," she confessed.

"I cautioned you of such things, my child. Small the challenges of this journey are not."

"I know only too well. But, just seeing you again has raised my spirits," Cerin said honestly.

She paused before continuing, "Tell me, what has become of our home?"

Elrond's eyes revealed a deep sadness at her question, "It is no longer the Last Homely House that you knew. Most are gone and have sailed for the Gray Havens, including Arwen. The age of elves has ended and now is the age of Men."

Cerin's face became sad at his news of her home. "I do not know how long this age of Men shall be. We are but six thousand spears against the force of Mordor."

Elrond lapsed into silence and looked pensive at her bleak words.

"My Lord Elrond!" Aragorn's shocked voice interrupted the quiet.

Both turned their gaze to the Ranger at his entrance. He approached until he stood beside Cerin and then bowed to the elven Lord.

"Please, may you tell me now why you are here?" Cerin asked curiously after a moment of silence.

"I have come on the behalf of those I love and for our world," he said meaningfully to Cerin before speaking more forcefully, "Not long will Middle Earth survive the evil that now spreads from Mordor. The shadow no longer lengthens while we wait just out of its reach. It is now upon us. The end has come."

"It will not be our end but his," Aragorn countered determinedly.

"You ride to war but not to victory. Gondor is weakened. Sauron's armies march on Minas Tirith as you know but in secret he sends another force that will attack from the river. The fleet of ships sails from the south. They'll be in the city in two days. You're outnumbered Aragorn. You need more men."

"There are none," Aragorn answered helplessly.

Elrond paused before offering in a cautious tone, "There are those who dwell in the mountain." Cerin's face was shocked while Aragorn's was appalled. The tent's canvas flapped against a sudden strong wind.

"Murderers. Traitors. You would call upon them to fight? They believe in nothing. They answer to no one," the Ranger hissed as the wind died down.

"They will answer to the King of Gondor!" Elrond said strongly as he pulled back his cloak and revealed a glorious sword. Its polished black sheath and large silver hilt gleamed brightly in the candlelight.

Elrond stepped forward and presented the blade to Aragorn, "Anduril, Flame of the West, reforged from the blade of Narsil." Aragorn took the sword from the elf's grasp and looked with reverence upon it.

"Sauron shall not have forgotten this blade," he whispered. Slowly, his hand clasped the hilt and pulled the remade blade from the sheath. The engravings along the length of the metal glinted.

Cerin saw the power of the sword and how right it looked in Aragorn's hands. Aragorn now seemed to exude the power and importance his title afforded him and not look like just a simple backwoodsman. It was then that she realized the futility of her feelings for Aragorn. _The daughter of a peasant is not destined for a king,_she thought sadly.

"The blade that was broken shall return to Minas Tirith," Aragorn's voice pulled her from her melancholy thoughts.

"The man that wields this blade can summon an army more powerful than any that walks this Earth. Put aside the Ranger, become who you were born to be. Take the Dimholt road," Elrond said with finality.

Aragorn gave him a long look before nodding in acquiescence and sheathed Anduril. He nodded farewell and turned to leave the tent.

"Cerin," Elrond called for her attention, "far have you traveled from your home in Imladris, and farther still must you travel. On the morrow you will once again be entering Gondor, the place of your birth. But, it may also be the place of you ruin. I fear you will not see the end of this war with your identity still hidden. Guard your secret well, my child. You know not the danger should Sauron learn of your identity."

"I will be careful, Elrond. I know the power that knowledge holds."

"Then this is farewell, Cerin. I wish you safe passage so you may see the end of this journey," the elf said caringly.

"Farewell, Elrond. I hope we meet again," she said softly. Cerin moved forward and embraced the Lord again. She offered him a last sad smile and then left him in Theoden's tent.

She tried to ignore the heavy sadness of leaving her adoptive father as she made her way to her tent. If she knew Aragorn at all, he would want to leave quickly, so Cerin needed to gather her packs and find the Ranger. In short order, her weapons were on her person and she was clasping her cloak about her neck. Cerin did not expect Eowyn to intercept her as she was collecting her things.

"What are you doing? The war lies to the east. You cannot leave on the eve of battle! You cannot abandon me," Eowyn cried desperately.

"Eowyn, my path does not lie with the Rohirrim. It lies through the mountain with the fellowship," Cerin said gently.

"But the men need you! I need you!" she cried, "How am I to be allowed to fight if you are not here to help me convince them?"

"Eowyn…" Cerin paused as the shield maiden ripped the blankets off her cot and revealed a sword.

"I should be allowed to fight for those I love as you do. I have no chance of doing so if you are not here," Eowyn pleaded.

"My friend, you have been chosen to oversee the city while your uncle is away. You cannot abandon that."

"There are others who could perform such a task. Is it my fate to always be left behind to watch over the people?"

"It is your duty to protect your people," Cerin countered.

"There is no glory in my duty," Eowyn explained desperately.

"You seek glory? I see no glory in watching your comrades fall right beside you from arrows to the chest or have them bleed to death in your arms from a blade to the gut," Cerin said with quiet ferocity, "If you are going to fight, fight for the lives of those you love. Fight for the peaceful times you want your children to know. Fight for whatever you wish but do not seek glory where there is none."

Cerin paused and grabbed her packs. "Do whatever you wish, my friend. I hope you find what you are looking for. And please watch over Merry," Cerin gave the shield maiden a parting hug and then walked out into the night.

She walked past the roaring fires towards the place where Greatheart was tethered. She rounded the last tent and spotted the great gray horse amongst the many others. As she approached, Aragorn emerged from the herd of tethered horses leading his own saddled mount. The Ranger spotted her as she neared and greeted her with a forlorn expression.

"Not this time, Cerin," he said lowly.

"What? You mean for me to stay?" she asked, shocked.

"It is too dangerous. This is where we must part."

"You had no qualms about me fighting at Helms Deep. Why can I not follow you into battle again?" She asked angrily.

"Because I care for you! I would not have you hurt if I could prevent it!" he said just as angrily.

Cerin visibly calmed at his words. Her annoyance at his refusal battled with the sudden happiness at his declaration. She neared his tense form and peered into his annoyed face. "I go with you or I go with the Rohirrim. No matter who I follow, I go to battle at dawn. I am in danger either way."

"Aragorn," Legolas' voice cut through the tension, "Have you not learned the stubbornness of women and dwarves yet?"

"Face it, laddie, we're all comin' with you," Gimli stated matter of factly as the dwarf and elf joined them near the horses.

Aragorn finally gave a resigned sigh upon realizing he could not sway them and gestured for them to get a horse ready. Soon enough Cerin was seating herself behind Aragorn in the saddle and Legolas was again helping Gimli atop their horse. Once all four of them were ready, they turned the horses and made their way past the last few tents. It seemed that their argument had attracted some eyes but their departure was attracting more. Men poured out of the tents and watched with shocked faces as they passed.

"Where are you going, my Lord?" someone called to Aragorn above the growing murmurs.

Aragorn did not answer and they continued through the dark of the night into the ominous and unwelcoming crevice in the mountain wall. As they entered the road, she felt Brego falter briefly before Aragorn urged him forward. They quickly left the reach of the light from the camp fires and were left with the meager light of the stars. Cerin knew not how long they traveled between the steep rock faces, but she knew that the road became even more unsettling in the dawn's light. It was a barren and desolate road. No life thrived in this place. Any trees or plants seen were dead and lacked the green of life.

"What kind of army would linger in such a place?" Gimli asked incredulously in a hushed voice. His was the first to break the silence for a long while. The stillness of the air was unsettling and it made them keep their words to themselves.

"One that is cursed. Long ago the men of the mountain swore an oath to the last king of Gondor to come to his aid, to fight. But when the time came and Gondor's need was dire, they fled, vanishing into the darkness of the mountain. And so Isildur cursed them never to rest until they had fulfilled their pledge," Legolas explained quietly. His voice echoed within the narrow canyon even at its low volume.

"Is this the entrance?" Cerin whispered to Aragorn as her arms tightened around his waist in anxiety. She spotted the square shaped door in the rock face some distance ahead. The trees before the entrance were long since dead and their fallen branches cracked beneath the horses' hooves in their dryness. Cerin peered into the door and could not help the shiver that shook her body. The darkness beyond the door was so thick that not even the light of the day penetrated it. Aragorn clasped one of Cerin's hands that clutched at his waist to offer her some kind of comfort, but it did little good for the woman.

"The very warmth of my blood seems stolen away," Gimli whispered fearfully as they all dismounted just outside the door. Aragorn pulled two torches from behind the saddle and handed Legolas one of them.

Cerin tried to ignore the dwarf as she stood next to Aragorn. She spied above the entrance carvings in the rock of not words but pictures. Her focus was drawn to the picture of a man with a spear through its chest.

"The way is shut. It was made by those who are dead and the dead keep it. The way is shut." Legolas translated from the carvings.

As the last word fell from his lips, a wind of pure fear and evil blew fiercely from the darkness before them. The horses gave loud distressed cries and reared against their leads. They pulled until Legolas and Aragorn released them then turned and ran back down the road away from the evil. Cerin watched them go while wishing she could turn away also.

"I do not fear death," Aragorn proclaimed strongly. He ignored the strong wind pushing him back and walked straight into the darkness. Cerin looked over towards Legolas with a questioning look. He nodded and followed after the Ranger. Cerin could do naught but steel her will and force herself to move forward.

"I'd never hear the end of it if I dare not go," she heard Gimli mutter from behind her.

The path was wide but the darkness was like a physical barrier. It shrouded their sight and made the bright light of the torches dim. Nothing withstood their passage as they walked but whenever they halted voices whispered endlessly from every direction. Cerin knew not how long they walked before they entered a large cavern with a vaulted ceiling. A cold wind circled them as they took in the sight. One side of the path fell away into an even darker abyss. The other side revealed a castle-like structure carved from the rock of the mountain. They had not been halted long before the whispers suddenly ceased and a low voice called out from the void.

"Who enters my domain?" the voice demanded with anger. There on the stone stairs of the castle appeared from the darkness a greenish mist in the shape of a man. His white beard hung raggedly from his decaying face while his pale eyes pierced the fellowship's hearts with fear. Cerin stood frozen as Aragorn challenged the ghost.

"One who would have your allegiance," Aragorn replied with strength.

"The dead do not suffer the living to pass," the ghost answered mockingly.

"You will suffer me!" Aragorn growled.

The ghost only laughed at Aragorn's words. His voice echoed eerily around the cavern and chilled their blood. The previously silenced voices now rang out around them as the cold wind swirled angrily. Green mist poured from every surface around them and formed into decaying skeletons of men. Now the fellowship was completely surrounded by an army of ghosts.

"The way is shut. It was made by those who are dead and the dead keep it. The way is shut," the ghost king chanted as he approached them, "Now you must die!"

Legolas quickly loosed an arrow at the king but it sailed right through his misty form.

"I summon you to fulfill your oath," Aragorn proclaimed.

"None but the King of Gondor may command me!" the ghost king sneered.

Aragorn unsheathed his sword, Anduril, and raised it before him. The king sneered again at the Ranger's actions and swung his own sword with the intention to kill him. Aragorn blocked the ethereal blade with a loud metallic cling instead of it passing right through as Legolas' arrow had.

"That blade was broken!" the king choked in his shock.

"It has been remade," Aragorn said evenly.

"Fight for us and regain your honor. What say you?" Aragorn asked of the surrounding army. Their skeletal faces only stared and they were silent at his question.

"You waste your time, Aragorn! They had no honor in life, they have none now in death," Gimli insulted. Cerin placed a firm hand on the dwarf's shoulder to quiet him.

"I am Ellesar, Isildur's heir of Gondor. Fight for me and I will hold your oaths fulfilled. What say you?" he called loudly.

"We will fight," the ghost king finally responded. Aragorn could not completely hide his relief.

"I go upon the Anduin to Gondor, and you shall follow. I will consider your oath fulfilled when the land of Gondor is free of the servants of Sauron and then you will have peace."

At his words, the ghost king nodded and the ghostly shapes around them faded on the swirling wind and into the darkness. Aragorn turned to them and offered a small grin at his success. They gave him feeble ones in return. The oppressive feelings of fear and evil remained in the air as they journeyed onwards but the whispering voices were now silenced. There was now the distinct feeling of being followed as they made their way out of the mountain and to the Anduin. They had accomplished their goal, but now they faced the full strength of Mordor.

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TBC

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